From Scanra With Love
by CalliopeMused
Summary: Seventeen-year-old Daine Sarrasri thought that she would never leave Snowsdale. Then the golden eagle came, and everything changed. Daine/Numair AU
1. An Iota of Solace

_I can't promise that all chapters will be this long, but I do have the entire story blocked out. I'll be posting this around a full schedule of exams and studying, so please enjoy my break from schoolwork.  
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**From Scanra With Love  
>Chapter One: An Iota of Solace<strong>

Veralidaine Sarrasri was not a normal girl by any means, but she was a happy one. The world had started to make sense on her sixteenth birthday, when her ma had finally admitted that Daine was the daughter of a god, and her father's visit on the following Samhain had let her ask all the questions she could have wanted. Her mentor was the bad-tempered male half of the badger gods, and the reason that she could shapeshift so easily that it felt like changing skins. Badger had also taught her that animals could hear her words even when she didn't make a sound, and that she could impose her will on nearly every member of the People.

Now seventeen, Daine made a very comfortable living as the assistant to Hakkon Falconer. In truth, she could have started her own competing business, but she preferred to keep her true talents hidden. In a world gone mostly to the mad, it seemed the best thing to do. So far, Galla had avoided the worst of the wars, but Daine didn't know how much longer that could last.

If it hadn't been for the message-bird, Daine might never have left Snowsdale. She would have stayed on and perhaps married the least skittish of the local boys, or maybe she would have gone to Cría with hawks and horses she had tamed by her own hand. Whatever she might have done, it would have been nothing like the future that the golden eagle brought.

Daine's day in the mews had started normally enough, with greeting each of the birds that Hakkon kept. She started with the smallest of the raptors, the tiny sparrow-hawks that forgot any kind of dignity in favor of nuzzling at her hands. Some would say it was unnatural to see the sharp little beaks preening at her fingers, but they wouldn't know the half of it. The rest of the hawks were next, prouder birds that let her approach them to scratch where the head met the neck, and that left the great eagles. The eagles would never forsake dignity, not even for affection, so she inclined her head to each of them and politely asked if their perches needed any adjusting.

She checked for messages only after her routine was over, and was surprised to find a panting golden eagle on the outside perch. Usually Hakkon would take charge of all such correspondence, but she supposed the man was busy enough. His wife was expecting his first child, and he would be hovering about the outside of his home while Daine's ma saw to a healthy birth.

She removed the letter carefully before offering her gauntleted arm to the eagle. He stepped up very nicely, and made no fuss when she settled him on the largest of the empty perches and tied the jesses with fast knots that would keep the bird solidly in place until she got to know him better. The birds that she trained were never kept with the leather ties bound to their feet, and were free to fly about whenever the fancy struck them. With trained animals, there wasn't much use in changing their routine. They would be back to their own mews soon enough.

The no-ties arrangement still puzzled Hakkon, but he had let Daine have her way since the first bird she trained turned out superior to any of his creatures. Daine's little sparrow-hawk had shown more ferocity than his eagle, and the sparrow-hawk would settle on two of Daine's fingers so neatly that there wasn't a single prick in her skin. Little Song was properly called a peregrine falcon, but both of them preferred sparrow-hawk for Song's delight in catching and eating any bird that she could.

If she hadn't known hawks and eagles as she did, she might have thought that the golden eagle was only aloof in the way that it studied every corner of the mews while avoiding her gaze. Since she spent half of her waking hours with the birds of prey, however, she wasn't so easily fooled. The first time its eyes met hers, she knew that there was nothing natural about that eagle.

Daine didn't let on that she knew just how strange her latest eagle was. She went about her chores as if nothing was unusual. She fed the birds that preferred pieces of hares or pigeons to their natural fare, skinned the animals that her birds had caught for two-legger consumption, and let her guest fare with nothing more than water until Hakkon arrived after lunch with a beaming smile in place.

"A girl!" Hakkon exulted, embracing his favorite assistant tightly. "Gertie Hakkonsra came out nice and easy, your ma said, and I won't keep you long today. I've already checked the message from our eagle. It was the usual nonsense from those what know better, asking if we knew anything about Blayce the Gallan."

Daine paled as Hakkon belatedly caught himself. "I'm sorry, lass," he said sincerely. "I always forget… it was a close thing, that, and I've never been so glad to see you."

"Do you have a return message for them, Hakkon?" she asked, pulling herself together. This wasn't the time to remember her first time changing her shape. "If you do, it should wait. The poor eagle was panting like it had run a great race when it arrived, and it feels underweight to me."

"I don't feel right about a strange bird left here, when I…"

"When you want to be home with Tiell?" Daine supplied. "It's fine, Hakkon, I promise. I don't want him alone with my birds, either, so I'll take him home to nurse him for the night."

"I'll have the reply ready by morning, then," Hakkon agreed cheerfully. "Tiell knows as much as I do, and we can say well enough to keep trouble like the king's men out of Snowsdale. We won't mention your part in anything, Daine, you have my word."

Daine wished he wouldn't say so much in front of the bird. The golden eagle was listening to them, though it didn't seem to realize she had more than a spot of nursing in mind.

The eagle stepped up nicely onto her arm again when she left the mews, and didn't even falter when she hooked the jess-straps down tight enough that he'd not be able to savage her with his talons. She was sure that the eagle was male, at least, which was more than most people could know from a first glance. He was settled nicely on her glove, which meant that someone had trained him a little, and that was all the assurance she needed to walk through town with an unhooded bird.

The villagers barely noticed that Daine had a massive eagle perched on her arm, after she'd spent four years working with Hakkon Falconer and his brood. It was only three years back that he'd entirely given up on his pursuit of Sarra Beneksra to marry Tiell Jolansra. Most of the village folk still gave Daine a wide berth, but as always she had the People to console her. The two-leggers might not like her, but all of their dogs wanted her approval, and their horses wanted her compliments and cosseting.

By the time Daine had reached the outskirts of Snowsdale, she was in a far better mood about her mysterious eagle. It had both eyes, so she could be sure it wasn't the mage that had caught her up in his Gift so tight she thought she'd never see the daylight again. This raptor would be the most interesting thing to happen to her on Beltane in forever, as no man or boy from the village would think of her as someone for a romance. For all that animals trained by her could be worth their weight in tinker's trinkets, she was too strange to be someone's wife. Some of them thought she was a changeling-child, and they were mostly right. No child of Weiryn's would ever fit entirely with mortals, it seemed, but she did well enough with her ma, her grandda, and her usually-absent father.

Weiryn could only visit twice a year, on the days when even minor gods could walk among the mortals, but he made those visits count. Daine felt very confident about her safety as she let her eagle settle himself onto the perch of her own personal mew. She kept one perch about of each size in the case of a sick bird, but the only permanent feature was the small perch that Song would use when the sparrow-hawk wasn't off on the hunt.

Daine secured the thickest of her leather jesses in place while humming to herself, a habit that drew no reaction from the visitor. There wasn't any kind of motion until she produced a standard hood. The flinch was very small, but not the kind of motion that a real eagle would make. She stepped back out of range from wings, beak, or talon before speaking.

"I know you're not really a bird, you know," Daine informed the eagle. "I wouldn't recommend changing back with that leather tied 'round your legs, neither."

Daine nearly dropped the hood when she heard a reply from the bird, for all that she knew it had been an accident. He had clearly just cursed at some unseen person named 'George.'

"Well, hello there," Daine breathed, fascinated despite herself. "I know you can talk, now, and I've never talked to a shapeshifted mage before." The reaction to that was total silence, which was all the answer that she needed. "Most of'em can't find a way to have me listen, but I suppose you've a lot of magic. The other birds could see your Gift, you know."

_I mean no harm, _the bird thought hesitantly.

"I know, bird, or I'd've called my pa to deal with you instead of lettin' Hakkon keep taking peeks. What's your name, anyway?" Daine waited, not surprised when no answer was coming. "I'll call you something silly, you know. What about Flutter?"

She heard the eagle sigh. _Numair. Numair Salmalín_, the bird replied, shifting pointedly against the leather binding his feet. _This isn't necessary, miss. _

"Mayhap not, but I've not the first notion who you are, and I'll let my ma have a look with eyebright," Daine said. He was polite enough, at least, which convinced her that it was worth the risk to move within range of wings and beak. "I'm convinced enough to get you a meal. Do you like your rabbit cooked or raw?"

_Cooked, please. _

That was how Daine ended up spending her Beltane afternoon cooking rabbit for a shapeshifted hawk that hadn't quite admitted that he was a mage. She left the roughage off, for all that it was good for birds of prey, as humans didn't appreciate fur and bones as a rule. When she laid out strips of cooked rabbit meat beside the water, he fell to eating as if he hadn't had a bite for days.

Daine frowned, her mothering instincts fully awakened. Someone hadn't been looking after the eagle properly, and with his instincts all in line, the mage had been in the form for more than a day.

The last time she'd seen a mage in bird form, it hadn't gone well for her. There was a reason she had staged her confrontation with her da at hand, in case the badger couldn't help her again just when she needed him. She loved the badger, she really did, but sometimes it felt like he didn't quite know how to love a mostly-mortal back.

She rubbed her totem for luck. The rough clay statuette of a person might not look like much, but it was her constant lifeline. It hung on a leather cord that always stayed around her neck, next to the silver badger claw from her cranky mentor. The third little charm on her necklace gave her dad fits to see, but her ma was a midwife, and said that all girls of age should have a charm against accidental pregnancies. Daine hadn't had the chance to test hers out yet, but she doubted any man in Snowsdale would dare try for her.

With the hawk settled and in no danger, Daine left to cook dinner for the rest of the family. Her grandda spent most of his time napping by the fire, now, but when he was awake he was the same as always. Her ma would be hungry after a full day of coaching Tiell through what to do with her first baby, and her da was always hungry. When her parents were back, then she'd figure out what to do about her guest the golden eagle.

Her parents came back only an hour to sunset, as she'd expected, and Daine didn't blush to notice that her ma's hair was tousled and her father's breeches were uneven. There was no need to hide such things away from her. "Stew's ready, but we need to eat fair quickly. I've a bird out in my shed, and I'll eat badger's claw if he's natural."

Her ma hugged Daine hard enough that it almost hurt while her da's bow came to his hand. "No!" Daine said, reaching to steady her father's wrist. As always, she was fascinated by the streaks of green that showed through her da's perpetual tan. Somehow, that had always surprised her more than the antlers coming from his curled brown hair and the far-away look in his eyes. "I promise, Da, so far he's been very well-behaved. I saw him through my magic, and he's nothing like…" Her voice failed her thinking of the mage with a ruby in place of his left eye. Inar Hadensra might not be able to set foot on her ma's property without every animal screaming warnings, but just thinking about him still could drive her to shivering.

Her da set his bow down to embrace her from the back, leaving the seventeen-year-old safely caught between her parents. She relaxed into their hold, but wouldn't let herself shed any more tears over what had happened with old ruby-eye. "I saw the eagle Gift through my magic. It's even more than Inar's, but he's still there. Song's been watching him all the day, and when she went to her perch, she told me he's still looking calm for all that I jessed him."

Her ma and da stepped away as one. "Stew can wait," her da said, running a hand down the smooth wood of his bow. "We'll see to this bird of yours." Daine had his keen eyes and steady hands, and his knack for archery. She'd never beat the hunting god at his game with bows and slings, but she was good enough to win money off challenging newcomers to Snowsdale fool enough to bet against the dreamy-eyed girl with the softly curling brown hair and the storm-blue eyes.

She had the curls from her da and ma both, perhaps explaining why Daine's hair was thick enough to break most hairties. Her ma was the most beautiful woman in the village, with her blue eyes and the hair that curled away from her delicate features, and it had taken the village's men years to realize that Sarralyn Beneksra would never consent to marry any of them. No one but Daine and her grandda knew that Sarra was being true to her sometime-husband, which was quite enough for Sarra.

"I'll get clothes for him," Sarra said, holding out her hand to the nearby mending basket. Daine's ma might not have enough Gift for the big magics, but Sarra's threads never pulled away, her cooking never burned, and her hands had never failed to bring the mother through the most difficult of births. So when Sarra held her hand out to her mending, the trousers that had been meant for Weiryn came to her, as well as a loincloth and a loose shirt.

Daine's da had preferred only a loincloth for the first several visits, but had reluctantly allowed Sarra to clothe him in trousers for the sake of Daine's grandda. Benek had been very gracious in seeing his only daughter pregnant with a babe at only fifteen years old herself, and with no father in sight, but there were some things he could not tolerate. An antlered man wearing only a loincloth was one of them, so they'd compromised by leaving the shirt out of things.

Weiryn had an arrow in hand when they went to Daine's shed, used to keep animals as they healed and to let her read the few books on animals that could be scavenged so far north of Galla's largest city. Her ma looked far calmer with her clothes in hand, as well as a spool of thread and a little pot of eyebright. Most male mages never though to be careful of a woman with thread, as Daine had seen all too often. Bandits had attacked in force when Daine was only thirteen, and it had taken Daine's arrows and her ma's magic to drive them back.

"Hello, Numair," Daine said after her parents proceeded her into the shed her da had built with his own hands the year before while she asked questions about all she could think to say. From behind her ma, she could see the eyebright paste coating her ma's fingers as she drew a sign around her eyes and dabbed the last of the faint yellow paste on the bird's beak. The eagle made no move to harm the delicate, uncallused fingers within striking distance, perhaps because Daine's da had an arrow nocked to his bow, or perhaps because he wasn't of the mood to harm.

"Go ahead and ask your questions, Daine," her da said roughly, clearly displeased with the entire situation. "So much as I'm tempted to end this now, we'll give him the chance to be a different sort of mage."

The eagle watched them calmly, for all that Weiryn was speaking of killing him. He scarcely looked surprised to see that the man had antlers. _I'm not afraid to tell you the truth, Daine, _the eagle said. _I am called Numair Salmalín, and I'm from Tortall. As the message said, I want to know about Blayce the Gallan. _

Daine stepped forward hesitantly. She could feel the truth in the words, and her ma's expression was clear and unworried. Sarra couldn't hear what the bird told her daughter, but she would be able to read any lies.

"I'd druther not talk about him 'til I know a bit more, I think. Can you change back?"

_I won't be able to do much else, _the eagle—Numair—admitted. _If I could impose upon your hospitality, however, I will be happy to comply. _

Daine frowned, grasping her father's elbow before he could go for his bow. "Da? What's hospitality mean?"

"It's being nice about welcoming someone into your home. Who is the man, Daine?"

"He's Tortallan, and looking for what people can tell 'bout Blayce the Gallan." Daine did nothing when her ma made the sign against evil. Somehow, she was sure that sign or not, Blayce would remember the Gallan commoner that had escaped his web of magic and lies, and so would the Scanran mage that had helped him in catching her.

Sarra's pretty eyes narrowed. "That's enough of that talk," she said sharply, surprising the bird into startling. "You'll not speak of that beneath my roof unless my daughter chooses, or we'll have eagle to add to stew." Though Daine was taken aback by her mother's atypical threat, her father looked just as angry at the mention.

"Ma!" Daine appealed, pushing her father's bow aside. "Stop threatening him. He's Tortallan, but he's not close enough to friends to make much trouble. Numair was fair exhausted when he came, more'n a messenger ought to be, and a friend would've had him rest before coming with the mention."

Daine studied the eagle again, appeased when her da took the arrow from his string to study the eagle-feathers making the fletching for his bow. _You've done this before, _Daine said for only the bird to hear. _This business with the message. It was folded and folded again, and you were waiting for someone to know of Blayce. _

_I don't mean any trouble for your family, _the bird promised, his dizzying eyes meeting hers directly. _I have reason to believe that Blayce knows something of Queen Thayet. _

Daine's eyes widened. The entire world had heard tell of the queen that had given herself to the enemy to keep her children safe when a Tortallan fief had been besieged, and that the king of Tortall would do everything but give up the war to have her back. "Ma? It's alright. He's looking for the queen, still, and perhaps he'd make trouble for Inar." For once, saying the name didn't frighten her. "He's just as strong, but not… prickly," Daine said, not quite sure how to describe the feeling that being near Inar Hadensra had raised in her.

"Have him swear there aren't friends of his within ten leagues," Weiryn said, moving within striking distance of the eagle.

_My only ally in this venture is near Cría. His name is George Cooper, and he is just as dedicated to bringing the queen home to Jon. _

Daine looked to her ma. Sarra was now studying the bird like he was one to mend, not one to break, and there hadn't been any lying. That meant that her eagle knew the king well enough to use a short-name, and he'd told her his friend's name to go with his. "Alright, Master Salmalín. We'll have you for the night, at least."

Daine's ma shooed her from the room after Daine had undone the ties keeping the bird to his perch. In an even better sign, Song flew down to Daine's shoulder to delicately work her beak around the edges of Daine's ear. If even Song would trust the newcomer, he was worth trusting.

He is a very calm man under the feathers, Song told her approvingly. Much better feathering than the fake-bird that I scarred for you.

Daine smiled, rubbing at the junction of Song's neck and body, just where the falcon couldn't reach. "Yes, you did." Her stalwart friend had left deep raking scars around the ruby eye, and with nothing more than a bent pinfeather to show for the assault on one of the most powerful mages in the world. "Could you hear him talking?"

I knew he was talking to you, but quiet. There isn't shine-magic in him, only glowing.

From reflex, Daine looked to the copper that followed every nerve and vessel in her body. Queenclaw, the goddess of cats, had let her see magic just the last year, after Daine was caught by Hadensra and the People could do nothing to help her. Even badger's magic hadn't let him get through the protections on her, and the badger god could usually get himself anywhere he wanted to go.

Near to half an hour later, a tall man ducked his head to leave Daine's shed. He was taller than even her father, standing five inches past six feet, and had a deep-tan skin that rivaled her father's green-brown. He also had a nose that reminded her all too much of the eagle's beak, but it was balanced by handsome features and dark, intense eyes that put her to mind of any bird of prey. While Numair came over to her, wearing clothes that must have been mended to fit his size, her parents left for the house. Whatever they had said with Daine gone, her ma and da trusted this man.

Daine didn't know what to say to him, but the tall man bowed to her like she were some kind of noble. "Thank you for your care, Daine."

As usual, Daine spoke before she thought. "That's an odd thing to say for someone tied more'n half the day." She belatedly realized that he might rather think of something else, but he smiled in a quick flash of white teeth.

"Some falconers tie tight enough to leave marks, later on, but you were gentle," he said seriously. "I won't begrudge anyone caution after meeting Inar Hadensra, but I can promise that I have little in common with that man." He dropped that subject instantly when he noticed that her breathing had shallowed. "Did you know that you have the most wild magic I've ever seen at once?"

Daine smiled, charmed despite herself at his honest manner. He certainly wasn't trying to trick her. "It comes of my da. My ma always hoped I'd pick up the Gift from her, but I do well enough with the shine-magic—that's what the People call it, the People being everything not a two-legger."

"The animals?" he asked, his eagle-eyes intent on her. Daine thought she would be trapped in only his eyes, but he looked away before her breath could catch. "I'm sorry. I have a little too much Gift even now, I suppose. Most mages use a gem or a coin to catch attention and hold it, but with the most powerful it's more like a cobra's charm."

"Snakes don't charm their prey." Daine was all too relieved to speak of anything else but being caught in someone's magic. "The animals freeze up because snakes see motion more than anything else, 'cept heat for some of the southern beasties. My lord has a bit of a menagerie, and he let me walk through once when one of the birds took ill."

"I had a friend in Carthak, once, that would give both of his legs to talk to you for an hour," the mage said wistfully. "He studied animals, but without a drop of wild magic to his credit."

Daine frowned, her eyebrows coming together as her forehead creased. Her ma would say she was setting herself up for early wrinkling, for all that Sarra frowned whenever she concentrated and hadn't a wrinkle at all. "Isn't Carthak at war with Tortall?"

The mage sighed. "Carthak, the Copper Islands, and Scanra are all ripping at Tortall's borders, and our latest overture to have some kind of kind word from the Yamani Islands is threatening to fall apart entirely."

"Knowing of Blayce would help?" she asked, letting the nails of her left hand dig into her palm.

He saw, like he seemed to see everything, and caught her fist in both of his big, strong hands. "It may help me find my queen, but I'll not harm you to do so. George and I will get by, as neither of us will give up until we die. The queen was taken under our watch, when we were meant to protect her, and I won't rest until she's safe and until she's home."

There was an echo under those words, one that felt like the gods themselves whispering that his words were true. Daine knew that the man would never lie about that, and she mustered her courage to say something very difficult. "I'll write some of what I know, for your queen's sake," Daine said, letting the words tumble over each other so long as they came out right. "I want Blayce gone, and Stenmun and Inar."

"Stenmun?" he asked gently. He hadn't let go of her hand, but Daine didn't pull away. The calluses and scars on his hands proved that he wasn't the type of mage to leave everything to only his Gift.

"Blayce's man," she replied, surprised that he wouldn't know. "He's tall as you, I think, but built out of more muscles than bones." It was rude, maybe, but the man reminded her almost of a scarecrow with his lanky build. "He has the usual Scanran hair, all pale, and he'll do anything Blayce asks."

"That alone will help, Daine. Thank you."

Somehow, Daine wasn't done, not with those warm eyes looking at her. She found the courage to say words even her ma hadn't heard. "Blayce kills children, Numair, and would've killed me. He's making these terrible metal _things _with their souls, and he kills the little ones and big ones alike over and over trying to make them work. He's a monster, fully, and I want you to stop him."

"I'll do my best, Daine. In the Goddess's name."

Any man that would swear by the Goddess had Daine's attention. Nearly all men chose Mithros for war and strength. "Inar Hadensra was working for Blayce, and for Maggur Rathhausak. He'd be the one you'll be looking for—Maggur, that is. He's a warlord what keeps hostages from those he takes over, and Blayce said that Maggur wanted all the metal things done and soon." Daine might have said even more, to bleed out the poison that still haunted her nightmares, but her father laid a hand on her shoulder. She hadn't heard him approach, and hadn't realized there were tears in her eyes.

Weiryn glared at the foreign mage, gathering his daughter into his arms. "Enough, mage," he growled, sounding much like the badger god. "I know she's talking of her will, but I'll tell you what needs to be known."

"I didn't realize…"

"Hmph. That's the problem there, mage. You don't realize." Weiryn combed his fingers through Daine's hair, a soothing gesture he wouldn't have done even the year before. He'd felt wild when she first met her, but he'd toned down his godhood to let her feel at ease with him. "Sarra said to come in, as it happens, before the stew's cold."

The meal was friendly, for all that Weiryn's disapproval crackled through the mood of the room, and they shoved all of the room's cushions and several grain-sacks together to create a makeshift cot long enough for their guest.

At near to midnight, Weiryn let Daine kiss his cheek, and kissed her mother goodbye with quite a bit more feeling. It was time for her father to return to the realms of the gods, where he could watch over her but not protect her. If he trusted Numair to stay without him there, it meant that Daine could trust Numair Salmalín with anything, even the time that she'd been kept in a dungeon that only a rat could have escaped.


	2. Goldfeather

_Song's personality and approach to life are both based very strongly on Persephone, my pet corn snake. _

**From Scanra With Love  
>Chapter Two: Goldfeather<strong>

That night, the badger came to Daine in a dream, as he'd done since she was thirteen and sleeping restlessly after bandits had nearly taken her ma from her. As it was, the bandits had nearly lamed her pony. Cloud had grown stronger again, and stronger still when Daine had learned to heal, but the gray pony would never regain everything lost when an arrow nicked one of her foreleg's tendons. Daine still dreamed that Cloud had been killed, when she wasn't remembering time in that cramped cell without any hope to her name. That night, however, the badger was there to soothe away the dreams.

"_You'll not dream of that tonight, but you won't thank me," the badger told her, settling himself under her hand. They were sitting on the bank of a stream, and her hand was in just the right spot to soothe the spot on his back that always itched. "We have something to talk about. I've already told your father, but you might need to convince your mother. _

"_You'll be going with Numair Salmalín to rid the world of Blayce." The badger huffed when her hand froze, but his voice was sympathetic. "Gainel has seen it, Daine, and the gods have agreed. Call it part of that trial I warned you about, where you'll need to choose a world. Succeed in this and you can stay with your father in the realms of the gods. _

"_What if I don't?" _

"_You'll be dead before you give up, Daine, and your father would never leave you in the Black God's realm alone." The badger shuffled out of reach from her hand, resting his front paws and half his weight on her thigh. She knew she'd have clawmarks on her leg when she woke. "You'll face your fears, and you'll need to fight through them. Blayce is an abomination that only you and that mage can end." _

_Daine's eyes widened, and she was shaking her head before she thought of any response. "Badger, I can't. I come near to sicking up just thinking of Blayce!" _

"_You _will_, Daine," the badger rumbled, leaning close enough that she could smell his terrible breath, "or the gods will bring Blayce to your doorstep. The one that would have dealt with him is ten, still, and Blayce's alliance with Inar Hadensra changes everything." The badger's tone was firm, and she never had been able to argue with him when he took to making orders. _

"_Please," she entreated, knowing it was useless. _

_The badger looked away from her, over the river. "I can't tell you why, Daine, but it's bigger than only Blayce and Inar Hadensra. There are forces at work that no one else can mend, that no one else can see. You're the Wildmage, Daine, and you're meant to be a legend." _

"_I've never wanted to be a legend, Badger." _

"_Be as it may, kit, your path will cross with Blayce. Let it happen away from Snowsdale, and let that mage protect you." _

_Daine swallowed, hard, and remembered the time that her ma had nearly died from a bandit's spell. Her ma's magic would never be strong enough to stand against the likes of those enemies, and Daine wouldn't have her village destroyed because she was afraid. _

_Badger read her answer in her eyes. "You're a good kit," he rumbled, nuzzling her side. "That mage will protect you, Daine, as best he can. Numair Salmalín may well be the strongest mage the world has to offer, and he'll be on your side." _

_Daine was shaking, and felt as if she would vomit, but she nodded her head in agreement. "I'll do it, badger." _

She woke up in the next moment, tears streaming down her cheeks. She stumbled over to her chamber pot and did throw up, vomiting until only bile was left. She had thought it was her ma that came to hold her hair back, but when she finally looked up, Numair was tying her hair back so gently that not one hair pulled.

"Thanks," Daine murmured, taking the handkerchief he offered. When she had wiped her eyes, she took her favorite waterskin from his hand and spat the last of the bad taste from her mouth.

"Another dream, sweetling?" Her ma was waiting in the doorway of Daine's room, giving Numair a thoughtful look. "Thank you, Master Salmalín. I'll be in your debt if you would get firewood from the lean-to."

Numair left the room, and Daine sniffled the last of her tears away. "It was the badger, ma. Not the nightmare this time. He told me that I'm meant to be one of the people what's stopping Blayce."

Sarra looked ready to protest, but for once, Daine interrupted before her mother could protect her. "It's going to happen, ma, no matter what I do. I'd druther bring the war to Scanra rather than have it all come here, and badger says Master Salmalín will protect me."

"He and that friend of his better," Sarra said several breaths later, when she had pulled Daine close. "Your da warned me something much like this would happen. I suppose it's what comes of dealing with gods. Even they can't change the tides, not when Mother Flame has made it so."

Daine leaned against her ma, surprised that she hadn't had to fight for the quest she didn't want. "You'll tell grandda?"

"I'll tell him many times, Daine." Sarra sighed, looking to the main room where grandda was already rocking peacefully beside the fire. "You know how he forgets. You be sure to say goodbye well, in case you're gone too long."

"I don't want to leave, ma," Daine admitted, knowing that her ma would be close to alone until Samhain, when her da could visit again.

"And if I had my chance, I'd keep you here, but I always knew you'd leave Snowsdale." Sarra cleaned the flecks of vomit from Daine's nightshirt, and straightened the neckline from where it had fallen askew. "You're special, Daine, and not just for your father being a god. You'll see when you leave that people will be kinder without thinking they know all about who you are."

"They'll know from my name, ma."

Sarra's eyes narrowed at those unseen people. "And that'll be a fine judgment. Any that raises fuss for you being named for your mother is no one you'll want to know, Daine Sarrasri, and I'll thank you to remember you're more than a name. You know just as well that Weiryn calls you his, for all that I've never wedded him, and that'll be good enough for all of us."

Daine always felt braver with her mother at her side, but she knew her ma would do well enough without her. Sarra had been flighty, once, but now Daine thought that her ma had thought that Weiryn wouldn't return unless she stayed much as she'd been at fifteen. With her lover back, Sarra had settled into a much happier routine, but she also had taken a much more active role in guiding Daine through the teenage years.

"I'll be okay," Daine said, trying the words out. "Song and Cloud will look after me, besides, and I'll be back before you know it."

"You'll find where you belong, Daine, and it won't be Snowsdale." Sarra twined her hands through each other, but didn't take her gaze away. "Your grandda won't make it much longer, Daine, and I don't think he'll make it to Samhain. When Samhain comes… I'm going with your father, Daine, and I'll not come back to Snowsdale again."

"Ma!"

"We were going to tell you yesterday, darling, but with the eagle and all the fuss…" Sarra hesitated before taking her daughter's hand. "You're a woman grown, Daine, and there's little else for me to teach you. Weiryn's always said that you'll be with us in time, when your time on some grand adventure or other is done, and this isn't the end. I know that I'll see you again, Daine, and we'll finally be a family. All three of us together."

Daine agreed shakily, and spent the rest of the time before breakfast packing her belongings together. She packed four changes of clothes, and the grand dress her mother had made once on a whim. It was nothing compared to her lord's small court, but it was the finest thing that Daine had owned. From there, she took her camping-kit, the bow and quiver her father had given her, and the jesses she and Song used when they pretended that she was a normal little sparrow-hawk that needed the ties to stay with Daine.

When she came down to a late breakfast, Numair looked at her pack and bow, but didn't say anything. Daine appreciated that no one asked about the haversack all through breakfast. Daine helped to feed her grandda, that time, and kissed his bald head when she was done. She didn't think that she'd see him again, now, but she hoped that his end was peaceful. There was no light in his eyes, but perhaps that was better. He wouldn't have to worry about his wandering granddaughter.

Daine didn't explain to Numair until Cloud and Song had both agreed to travel with her. Cloud was offended that Daine would even ask, even thinking of the weakness to Cloud's right front leg, and Song trilled excitement to see new places and hunt new things.

Numair was the last to know of her plans, though he must have suspected when she pulled out Cloud's saddle and halter to check the tack. Through common agreement, Daine never used a bridle or a bit on her pony. She didn't need them with Cloud or any other mount she'd had the chance to ride.

She only approached him when her longbow was slung over her left shoulder and her things were stowed in Cloud's saddlebags. "I'm going with you."

Daine hadn't left room to disagree, and Numair didn't protest. "I suppose we're riding?" he asked.

In a rare public show of affection, Cloud lipped at Daine's shoulder. Daine stroked her pony's neck before replying. "Ma said that you can take Bandit. He's the stallion that stayed with me when the bandits ran away, and he won't take any other name."

Numair gave the handsome black horse a dubious look. "I'm a terrible horseman, Daine, and we aren't all that far from Cría. I had planned on transforming to reach George faster." He remained uncertain even when Daine coaxed Bandit into looking over the strange, tall man that looked nothing like most of the pale-skinned Gallans. "Nonetheless, I thank you and your mother for your generosity."

Daine said little else until it was time to go. Her ma fussed over her, packing warmer things in case their trail took them to Scanra, but Daine kept thinking of dark spaces and pushy badgers. Her ma cried as she hugged Daine goodbye, and wished her the best of luck, but Daine's eyes were dry. She didn't want to leave Snowsdale, but she couldn't let the town come to waste.

Cría was four days of hard riding from Snowsdale, and from Numair's warnings of his lack of skill on horseback, they might need to take five days. In the space of half an hour, Sarra had thrown together enough food to last both of them a week. By the time they stopped for lunch, Daine thought she was being rather unfair to her new traveling companion. He hadn't been kidding about being a poor horseman, and Bandit had drawn off to the side to sulk about Cloud having the better rider. Daine could at least talk to him in a way he'd understand.

"I don't suppose many people know you can change into an eagle," Daine said as she tore into her loaf of bread.

"I don't suppose many people know you're a demigoddess."

Traveling with Numair Salmalín might be fun after all. With that thought in mind, Daine grinned at him. "You're not so bad yourself. You looked just like a golden eagle. The last time I—" Her voice hitched, but she didn't want him to know. "The last time I saw a mage going about like a bird, he had all the details a little wrong."

"Hadensra?" Numair asked quietly.

Daine nodded, relieved that she didn't have to explain. "You had all the pieces right enough that I didn't know until you didn't act right for an eagle. You were too curious about two-legger things for a bird I'd never met." Under his new scrutiny, she did blush. "Animals get smarter around me, somehow."

"It's the wild magic, Daine. It leaks out in everything you do."

"You can see it?" Daine asked, interested in the strange man all the more. "Most people don't believe it exists. My da asked a few favors, and the only man what wrote about it in the last century was Arram something."

"My thesis in applying for the Carthaki mastery," Numair admitted, glancing back over his shoulder. "I was born Arram Draper, but I gathered an enemy in the form of Emperor Ozorne. Numair is much safer."

Daine didn't care at all for that small deception. She had far more interesting things to think about. "Numair it is, then." She would ask more about wild magic later, when the shock wasn't so fresh. "You know near all the important parts of my past from stopping in on Beltane, but I don't know much at all about you or your friend George."

"I'm Tyran by birth," he began, sounding as if the story was a familiar one to tell, "but I was trained in esoteric magics in Carthak. When the situation became untenable, it was far more prudent—"

"I get it," Daine interrupted, scowling at her potential friend. She'd thought he wouldn't judge her for her rough clothes and country manners, the way he'd talked before, but there was no hiding that he was wealthy. Past his fancy manners, his simple clothes weren't homespun and he had some sort of expensive stone dangling from his pierced ear. "I don't understand either of those words, so how'm I supposed to know the story? I'm not near as educated as you, but there's no need to go on about it. It's fair rude." When he didn't have a reply ready, she brushed the crumbs away from her skirts and let Cloud's glare speak the rest for her.

Bandit lagged behind as Cloud made her way over the hills and down into the valley. Daine listened for the stallion, but she wasn't ready to take her words back. She felt like enough of a straw-brained yokel that she hadn't gotten through two sentences without getting lost. She'd learned her letters, but there were hardly that many books for a commoner to lay hands on all the way in Snowsdale. The stained, tattered book detailing animal anatomy and healing was a treasured volume too delicate to travel with her, and her healing book hadn't ever said 'prudent' or 'untenable,' much less 'esoteric.'

Daine was still in a sulk when Bandit approached again, but she turned when Numair cleared his throat. He was holding a ragged bouquet of flowers he must have picked from the trail, all while rocking and wavering on the horse the whole while. Numair Salmalín was the worst rider she had ever seen, but he was sweet at heart.

"I wasn't trying to make fun, Daine," he said when she took the flowers. "George will be very upset that his lessons in speech didn't stick, as I'm supposed to talk like a normal person when the occasion presents itself. Universities encourage people to talk that way to prove that we did have the chance for all of that learning."

"It shouldn't've bothered me so bad, but I'm still upset to leave home." Daine plucked a nightshade flower from the bouquet before smelling the rest of them. "What's your friend George like?"

Numair knew a peace offering when he heard it. "George is one of my closest friends, and tends to get along with anyone. He was born a commoner, but married the King's Champion years ago. He and Lady Alanna have three children, not that he sees them all that often." Numair looked miles away, but came back to himself when Daine wrapped her hand around three of his long fingers. "George and I were both there when Queen Thayet gave herself up to save her children. The Carthaki mages wanted her children, too, but they settled for Thayet and a promise of good behavior.

"The captain of George's guard went with her, after setting aside all of his weapons, and I know Josua. If he's alive, he's protecting her."

Daine read the answer in the deep lines at the corners of her mouth, but she couldn't help ask. "How long have you been searching?"

"Four years, now. It's not nearly so bad for me," Numair said wearily, against the evidence of the thinness of his build and stray white hairs in his glossy back hair. He was older than Daine by years, but not old enough for white to show at his temples. "I don't have family I still speak with, let alone children. George… well, he'd always planned to be at home with his children while his lady-wife roamed around being a Champion.

"With the war on, Alanna's stuck in Corus protecting King Jonathan, and she's raising Jon's children as well as her own. Jon is a good man, but he and Thayet were like one of the great love stories from first sight, Daine, and he can't forgive himself for losing her."

"Then we'll find her," Daine said, squeezing his hand. "I've heard a little of what she looks like. I'll start spreading the word this very minute, and as soon as any little birdie sees her, they'll pass a message back on to me."

Song had been eavesdropping, as usual, and promised to spread it to birds of prey. Daine's little sparrow-hawk was fearless in talking to eagles and even gyrfalcons, trusting to speed and cleverness to avoid becoming their next meal. Daine would tell the smaller birds later, the ones that Song would regard as food instead of allies. Just that morning, Song had eaten a beautiful little tanager with a relish that had made Numair blanch. He might know how to take eagle shape, but he didn't know much of being an eagle.

"I could help teach you wild magic," Numair said, watching something that she couldn't see pass between her and her falcon. "You know more of the experience, but I've talked with the Banjiku. They're a native tribe of Carthak with wild magic running deep through nearly everyone, and they have specific ways of training their children."

"I'm no child, Numair. I'm seventeen," Daine reminded him indignantly.

"It seems that I lose all of my infamous ability to charm anyone around you, Daine," he said. "I apologize. I mean that they have a specific way of learning, and it's one that might benefit you. We can start with meditation when we have George around to guard us." When she looked dubious at her assumed agreement, Numair smiled. "It will strengthen your magic and your mind."

Daine thought it over. Numair didn't rush her. "Well… alright, then," she agreed. "I suppose that your fancy talk isn't working because I don't know half of your fancy words, but you can learn commoner-Common soon enough."

Numair chuckled. "George would be thrilled to have me learn commoner-Common, Daine. Perhaps I can try during the afternoon ride."

The afternoon ride was much better. Numair wasn't condescending to her by using small words, and didn't mind several interruptions to learn what things like 'transmutation' and 'simulacra' meant. She couldn't have repeated 'simulacra' for the life of her, but she did know that it was a copy of someone, usually the mage making the thing.

When they stopped at twilight to camp, Numair dug them a latrine trench just where Daine would've done it. Daine curried both horses as a thanks, checking with Cloud and Bandit to make sure there were no pains needing fixing. Neither horse nor pony was accustomed to such a long ride, but both assured her they would be fine for trotting again the next day, if Daine thought that the stork-man could handle it.

Daine giggled at the name for Numair, even if she decided not to share that little detail. She supposed he did look a little like a stork with his long legs and long arms, as well as his long nose. Besides, any sort of nickname that wasn't outright insulting meant that Cloud was warming up to him. Song flew down when she was done with the horses. Her sharp eyes were little good in the night, and she preferred to stay close to Daine. Owls owned the night, and as much as they usually ate other things, some might try for falcon on the menu.

Daine was up before the sun, with all of the People ringing in her ears with their calls to bring the dawn. She smiled to herself as she brushed Cloud and Bandit, thinking that she at least knew one fancy word. Her book of animals had taught her 'diurnal' for the animals that were awake and moving through the day.

Riding the second day was better than the first. Numair looked a little more at ease on Bandit, and had dropped the reins of the halter entirely to grip a hand in the mane. Like Cloud, Bandit wore no bit, but the day before Numair had kept a pale-knuckled grip on the reins as if he'd fall off otherwise. Daine was more at ease with having an adventure, especially knowing that her ma was safe. It was reassuring to know that her ma could be happy even if she died. There was no way that Weiryn would leave Sarra. He'd never taken a wife before, and as he said, he was too stubborn to give up on someone he loved.

Numair entertained her with coin tricks, including a very convincing show of pulling a Tortallan copper bit from Bandit's ear. He also told her part of his story, the bit he'd been talking about the day before. He used to be close friends with the Carthaki emperor, back before Ozorne had taken the throne, but Ozorne had made a dangerous friendship with Roger of Conté. From then on, Ozorne had been suspicious of any mages with his strength, and in the end he asked too many things that Numair wouldn't do.

Ozorne would have killed his closest friend rather than let Numair slip away from his control, but Numair had escaped to Tortall. That was the serious part, for all that he'd joked and teased about life as a spoiled Carthaki mage with his nose forever in a book. He'd spent three years on the run in small Tortallan cities, entertaining with whatever false magic he could create, and came close to starving several times. That had all changed when he dared try Corus, for all that he thought Ozorne was still chasing him.

He'd befriended George Cooper, the Lioness, and the king in short order, and they had taught him useful magic instead of turning stones into loaves of bread. Daine had thought that trick showed promise until Numair told her that it would still be like eating a rock. It might be fine for birds to eat little stones, but she wasn't a bird. To hear Cloud tell it, she was one of the People that happened to be in human shape. Daine still wasn't sure that she believed that, but Cloud hadn't been wrong before.

In return, Daine told him about growing up in Snowsdale with no friends but her ma, her grandda, and all the animals. She even told him about the bandits, and what it had been like to finally meet her da, but she left a few things out. She felt guilty at holding back after he had shared so much, but she didn't trust him with everything yet. He didn't need to know about the times that she'd gone mad, and she wasn't ready to talk about Blayce yet.

Daine had a nightmare, and woke to Song gently pecking at her cheek. Daine rubbed a hand over her face, a little surprised to find no tears. She was even more surprised to see Numair awake and looking over to her bedroll. He had to sleep lighter than a cat to wake up from as little noise as one of her quiet nightmares.

"Blayce again," Daine told him. She was too tired to hold back that piece of information, when he looked at her with that much concern. "He didn't even mean to catch me. Da says that he's a necromancer. I didn't know what that meant, before, but I knew he wasn't any good." She shuddered just remembering the way that Blayce would pet and cosset children before he killed them. "He liked young children. Young, pretty ones. He'd spoil them, first, with toys and baths and fancy clothes, and then he'd take one at a time up to his workroom. Those ones never came back.

"I was with the rest of the children at first, even though I was six years older than almost any of 'em after just turning sixteen. I guess I looked nice enough. He might've brought me up to that place in the tower after enough time, but I snuck up first looking after one of the children from Kara's reading lessons. She taught half of Snowsdale to read, and I was helping her the day the kids got took." Daine wouldn't have said any more, except that he still was listening, and she hadn't even told her ma the littler parts. Someone needed to know, and the two of them were supposed to destroy Blayce together.

"I got caught trying to get into the room. I ran, but…" Daine's voice caught as she huddled in on herself. She hadn't heard Numair move, but he was tucking his cloak around her pillow, and earning a quiet, approving chirp from Song for being sure that the bird had a good fold tucked around her.

"But you aren't ready to speak of that yet," Numair finished when she couldn't say the words. "We have time, Daine. We won't meet my contact until tomorrow afternoon, and even then it could be weeks before we need to do anything that would need information on Blayce or Hadensra."

Daine hadn't thought she would be able to get back to sleep, but the extra cushion on her rough travel-pillow was tempting. Cloud was standing guard a few paces away from her head, Song was sleeping beside her, and Numair's cloak was soft against her cheek.

Daine didn't wake until a full hour past sunrise. Cloud was quietly amused at the development, but Song was not nearly as reserved. She let loose with a full-throated scream to call Daine into moving faster. Daine shook her head at Song's exuberant cries. "She's not at all like a normal sparrow-hawk no more," Daine muttered to herself, watching the daft bird flying tight circles around Bandit's neck.

"Song doesn't seem to mind." Numair was watching the sparrow-hawk's flight, but turned away when Song spun into a fast ascent. "She makes me dizzy when she goes into those dives. I spent nearly two weeks total trying to act as much like a normal eagle as I could, with George griping when I had the feathers or the talons or the beak wrong, but I wouldn't dare the dives she makes."

"I think sparrow-hawks are faster than most anything, when they feel up to flying. She dove straight down, when I was getting away, and at a full clip. Song's the reason that Inar Hadensra had two long cuts down his face." Daine dragged two fingers down her cheek to demonstrate. "She tore down near to his teeth. She'd been trying for the ruby, but I told her it was too hard for her talons."

"Leave Hadensra to me," Numair said lightly, but the words were a sincere promise. He reminded her of the Players that had traveled through Snowsdale once, all of them smiling and singing while their eyes counted the meager coins tinkling into their hats. The Players hadn't made the trip up to Snowsdale again. Numair, however, wasn't thinking of money. She imagined he was thinking of doing far worse than opening two wounds down the ruby-eyed mage's face.

"Blayce never went down to the dungeons," Daine said absently, finger-combing the tangles out of Cloud's mane. "He's also shorter'n me, and no great hand with weapons. All he has is trickery, lies, and those machines of his."

"Blayce for you, Inar Hadensra for me, and we'll let George keep on with finding Thayet." Numair said the words thoughtfully, as if mulling them over, before smiling. He had a very honest smile, the kind where skin around the eyes and mouth moved as one. "That should do well enough."

Daine grinned in return, pleased that he could make it sound so easy. If she stayed far enough away, she could turn Blayce into a pincushion of arrows and never see his quivering face again. It would be a better death than he deserved, but she'd rather have him dead than wait about for someone that would be able to do it. They talked about happier subjects, after that, and Daine even tried meditating while on the move. It nearly worked, and it only took Cloud two hours to forgive Daine for falling from the saddle. They continued the lessons on meditations at the fast breaks for meals, and by the very next day Daine could meditate without any worry of falling over.

She was supposed to clear her mind entirely while she worked on getting her wild magic to be a little less wild, but she couldn't help but feel that everything was going well. Daine could be back home by Samhain at the rate they were moving, and perhaps in time to see her grandda one last time while he was still alive. There wasn't much of an ending for the godborn, as she'd known since she was sixteen. Even if she died, her da could petition the Great Ones to bring her back to his realms. He would ask to bring Sarra before she died, and the gods would make a minor goddess out of Daine's own mother. Daine had known that her mother would go to the realms of the gods someday, and had known since the week after her sixteenth birthday, but it had never seemed so imminent. Come Samhain, Daine's ma wouldn't be the lonely woman that Snowsdale ignored until they needed a midwife.

Daine had only agreed to the mission to keep her home and family safe, and in the end, her goal was much the same. She wanted her ma and grandda to be safe and happy, and the rest of the world could follow along or not as it liked.


	3. Her Divinity's Secret Service

_A note on travel distance: Daine mentioned in _Wild Magic_ that it took about two weeks to walk from Snowsdale to Cría. With a horse and a pony, even allowing for Numair's infamous skills with a horse, I've estimated that the same journey took five days. _

**From Scanra With Love  
>Chapter Three: Her Divinity's Secret Service <strong>

Cría was even bigger than she had imagined. Just the fringes of the great city had more people than all of Snowsdale, and Daine hadn't the faintest idea how a body could live with no grass to be seen and no room for any animals but dogs, cats, and chickens. She could sense entire herds of horses from the famous horse fair, but those were kept to the outskirts and edges of the town.

Daine would have been entirely lost in such a tangle of buildings and people, but Numair led them directly to the Sergeant's Daughter, the pub and inn where they would meet George Cooper. The attached stables met even Cloud's approval, and Daine was pleased to sense horses contentedly munching at fresh hay. Daine gave Cloud's reins over to a stablehand, ignoring the boy's confusion when he noticed the lack of a bridle.

As they walked toward the inn, Daine belatedly realized just what she should have remembered nearly a week before. "I hope my ma has a story ready about the eagle," she muttered for only Numair to hear. "You were supposed to carry back a message about Blayce."

"Your mother has a story ready to explain why you and the eagle are gone," he replied, just as quietly. "She told me while you were packing your things."

"Good." With that out of her mind, Daine could focus on the person she was supposed to meet at the Sergeant's Daughter.

Even without Numair to make introductions, she would have known George Cooper on sight. Anyone that married the Lioness would have to be a legend in his own right, and the only man in the pub's main room to fit that description was the laughing man showing off knife-tricks that would have made any Snowsdale boy jealous. The man's hazel eyes focused right in on her when he noticed her appraisal, and it seem like he could see everything about her in that first instant. Daine stared back just as openly, taking in the man's deep laugh-lines and large nose along with the gray streaks beginning at his temples.

Numair rested his hand on Daine's shoulder to break the moment, and George was the one to approach the pair. "Well now," George said, glancing from one to the other. "What do we have here?"

Numair nodded to the shorter man, but kept his eyes on Daine for the introduction. "This is George Cooper. He's one of the most honest men you'll meet, but his tricks have tricks inside them. George, Mistress Veralidaine Sarrasri, commonly called Daine, who has graciously agreed to teach me commoner-common."

George laughed openly, taking Daine's hand in a firm clasp. "Would wonders never cease! Now, Mistress Daine, may I ask you t' trust an old man and have a private word with the both of us?"

Daine smiled instead of responding, not ready to give her answer on trusting someone just yet. She trusted Numair enough to follow them, but didn't know how far that trust extended. Daine might have protested that neither man was old, but she felt very young walking between the two of them to a comfortable room at the top of the inn's stairs.

George closed the door and checked the windows while Numair blanketed the room with ribbons of magic that even she could see. Daine took one of the room's two chairs, deciding that one of the men would take a seat on the bed or stand. She was tired after riding for five days on not enough good sleep. Neither man protested her decision, or commented when she kept her bow close at hand. George even poured water out of the pitcher for her without asking, when she was sure he was some kind of noble for being married to the Lioness.

When they were all settled, Daine had a cup of water, Arram had the other chair, and George Cooper was leaning against the room's door. "Numair has sound sealed in for us, so we can be quite honest. Let's start with why in the Shakith's name you changed th' plan, Salmalín."

"She caught me out as an eagle," Numair admitted. "I'd gotten as far north as Snowsdale, this time, and the main falconer's wife was having their first child. Mistress Sarrasri was the one to look me over, and she's enough of a hand with animals to know that I wasn't the genuine deal."

Daine toyed with a loose thread in the hem on her shirt, thinking. She was impressed that Numair would have thought to remember all that about Hakkon and Tiell. "You trust him, Numair," she said, remembering their talk. Numair and George were partners, and both of them were searching for Queen Thayet. She met George's eyes squarely and told all the truth that she could manage. "I've seen a mage in bird form. It wasn't near so good as what Numair did, with him having not a feather wrong, but it was enough the first time to have me follow.

"That was Inar Hadensra. He's been working with Blayce the Gallan and Stenmun Fodeben, called Stenmun Kinslayer. I saw all of them, but Stenmun said the most around me." Daine wouldn't have accepted pity, but she only found sympathy in George's gaze.

"That's no place for anybody, lass. I am glad that ye let Numair have his say instead of turnin' him into a pincushion with that bow of yours." George nodded to the longbow resting against her shoulder. "You have the look of someone that wouldn't settle for being a weak shot."

Daine blushed, but didn't deny the correct guess. "I brought in all the game for my family, even afore my grandda took ill. We're in bandit country, besides, and they'll come if you look weak." It was all too easy to put her ma and grandda in the past tense, but that wouldn't be forever. As soon as Blayce was gone, she'd be able to go home to Snowsdale for just a little while longer. "My grandda's started talking to my grandma again, when she's been gone for years, and my ma's next to sure he'll be gone by Samhain."

"Most folk keep track of days by the seasons," George said, all too knowingly. He still had that look in his eye like he knew all about her just by looking.

Daine's eyes narrowed. She didn't like it when people made fun, after so many years where folk had felt free to do just that. "You might as well say, you know. If it's no great secret."

George didn't look at all put out to have been caught, and didn't look like he was the type to hurt people through his joking. "I know who one of your parents is, or at least I have a guess. We've not met, your father and I, but I'm familiar with the ilk."

"Numair already met him." Daine wanted to trust these men. The badger wanted her to stop Blayce, and she couldn't do that with strangers. It was hard to give up one of her secrets so easily, but Numair already knew who she was. "He's Weiryn, the god of the hunt and a local protector of animals. Properly I'd be Daine Weirynsra, but it's not the kind of thing to let all in to know. The entire town thought it was their business nobody knew my da, but now I know why my ma never told any of 'em. Weiryn's the reason I've a knack for animals, and that I can talk to any animal there is, even if they haven't much to say."

George tilted his head slightly, considering her again. She had the feeling that he approved, and she was surprised at how warm that could make her feel. If she had a knack with animals, George Cooper had a knack for people.

"I'll remember that, Miss Sarrasri, have no doubt of that." George could sound like the most educated of kings, when he had a mind, but Daine couldn't help but notice the accent all through his speech when he was relaxed. "I imagine some gave you trouble for not havin' a father about or known, but I've always found that it draws you closer to your own ma."

Daine openly gaped that such an accomplished man had been a bastard child, too. By the look George gave her, he knew just what she was thinking yet again. George seemed to make a habit of doing that. "A family has to be close, for all that," Daine agreed shyly.

"Should've known we were due for some luck," George said, leaving their unexpected connection as it was. "You know about Blayce, and just when Numair and I were ready to split forces with no clues. I'll take any good omens in a storm."

Numair rubbed at his temple, looking more tired by the minute. "What path are you taking, George?"

"The same as before. I'll swing about through the north of Tortall meet you at the usual spot in Scanra, but this time I'm talking to every last smuggler and bandit camp along the way. Thayet's easy to spot, when she's moved about, even if I've been tempted to start slittin' throats the way they go on about her." George might not have realized that a knife was spinning rapidly around the fingers of his left hand. "If they let a single scoundrel see her, then I'll be chasing right after the second most beautiful woman in the world."

"The second?" Daine asked, puzzled. She had always heard that Queen Thayet was the most beautiful.

The one-time king of thieves grinned. "I'm biased, and I say my Alanna's a mite prettier," George admitted easily. "I'll tell you the whole story sometime, Daine, because I don't get a new audience often enough. My wife was a ten-year-old boy when we met, see, and she's only improved with age."

Daine giggled, not all that surprised that the both of them were sweet under all of their intimidating competence. "Well, you go chasing after the queen, then. Numair and I'll be looking for the most boring-looking man I've ever seen."

"You have seen all three?" George snagged a parchment from beside the pitcher of water. "That's a stroke of luck for us. Describe them, please, and I'll see if I still can sketch someone out. Used to be a fair hand at it when one of my boys caught a potential contender, and I had to know who I'd be watching for." He sketched a credible outline of a head with a wax pencil while Daine watched. She didn't know just what kind of 'boys' George might have had, but she couldn't help remembering the mention that George Cooper had been the King of Thieves.

George looked it, the way that he studied the blank face and smudged at the jawline as soon as she began talking. She described Blayce first, with his stringy, mousy hair and small eyes that blinked like a lizard's. His face had a long, thin nose and a narrow mouth, as well as a permanently nervous expression. He was only five feet tall, and soft in a way that showed that he took no exercise and ate well. It was the appearance that Daine had always associated with money. No one struggling to keep a roof together and meals on the table would have had such a look. Even the heaviest peasant would have some edge that meant hard working.

Inar Hadensra was all too easy to describe. He looked like any Scanran, with the sharp planes of his face and the light blond of his hair, but with a faceted ruby for his left eye. He was tall, though not quite as tall as Numair's six-foot-five, and far more muscled than Blayce. He carried only a staff, no other weapons, and didn't seem to respect Blayce. There was some other reason that he was helping Blayce the Gallan.

Her description of Stenmun felt sparse, but the details and descriptions that she could string together through the bad memories had been enough. She did know that the massive Scanran was taller than Numair, and nearly twice as muscular. George showed her a sketch that came all too close to the guard's usual expression, though the thin lines of the drawing didn't capture the malice in the Kinslayer's face.

"That's all of them." Before Daine could feel more than unsettled, Numair had a second cup of water in her hand, and both of them had offered to get her something a little stronger. "No wine, please," she responded. "I just need to…"

All three turned when a small beak tapped at the window, though George reacted first. He crossed the room, easily bypassing the room's single bed, and pulled the stubborn window open so gently that not one feather on their new visitor was ruffled. Song chirped in thanks before flying over to Daine, biting lightly at her earlobe in chastisement.

Cloud is upset, and you were not listening. Song sounded no less upset than the pony, but Daine would let the sparrow-hawk keep her pride. She said that she _will _come bite you if you start having the day-nightmares again.

Daine stroked Song's back, feeling much more herself with one of the People near. Even Stenmun couldn't scare her when she was among friends. "My pony was getting fair worried," she explained to Numair and George. "Song here agreed to come be sure I was still of a piece."

"I'll leave the window open, then." George still looked unsurprised, just as he had been when Daine described Blayce's exact appearance and when Daine had admitted to being a demigoddess. "I'll be paying a mind to any animal coming near me, you can believe that." He rolled his drawings into a narrow packet that he stuck into his beltpurse. "This changes my plans a mite. I'll still head after rumors of Thayet, but these images are too important to lose.

"Might take a swing by Corus for a day or two," George continued. For once, the man sounded as if he were hesitating.

"For Mithros' sake—George, don't you dare apologize for wanting to see your family," Numair said, irritable enough that Song peeped disapprovingly. The mage didn't spare the falcon a glance. "The twins just turned eight, and scry-calls aren't enough. Go tell Jon that I finally have a lead and that I'm following it in company of one Veralidaine Sarrasri, and that I'll fire-call him when I have something of note."

"I can't argue with a visit, Numair, you know that." George looked resigned to losing before either of them started the argument. "I'll bring sketches and all the information we have back to Jon, and he'll not try any kingly disapproval with you still on th' case."

Numair stood, but didn't move any closer to George. George Cooper was being convinced, but not willingly. "I wish he would try kingly disapproval again, George, but we'll get him back when we get the queen back. Until then, we're shipping you back to Corus so you can remember what your own wife looks like."

George had already given up, but seemed to be making himself give the polite rebuttal. "It's not fair on you, Salmalín. You've not been back to Corus for over a year, now."

"You have to see Jon in that condition, and see the way he looks every time he hopes we've found her," Numair replied quietly. "We'll be fine, and I won't be alone. Daine can have everything from sparrow-hawks to horses taking our side."

"Everything but rats'n'chickens," Daine offered, not so shy about approaching George. He looked rough, and very sad, but she knew that look well enough from working with horses some fool had worked too long. She didn't know the man well at all, but she had known that he wouldn't resist her arm around his back. "I'll look after him, Mister Cooper, and you can go tell that king of yours that every birdie from here to Tyra will be looking for his wife by the end of the week. Song already started spreading the word to the birdies with the best eyes."

"You're a godsend," George said, returning the half-embrace and taking a deep breath. "Perhaps literally, Mistress Sarrasri. I'll never forget the favor you're doing us."

Daine blushed under the regard of the Lioness's own husband, but didn't protest the words. If she could find Blayce again, it would be even more than a favor.

Numair clapped George on the shoulder, and the three of them looked at each other for a moment. "Let's get you on the road, Cooper, so you can be back to Corus in time to stay at least two days. I'll be following our hints on where in Scanra Blayce could be hiding, and your usual associates know me well enough now."

"Song will be watching for Inar, too." Daine's words were half a coo as she petted her sparrow-hawk, fingers just an inch away from a viciously sharp beak. "She already marked him once, she wants another go. Inar tried to keep me from getting away." Daine's smile wasn't very kind as she remembered the sight of blood and the sound of a strangled yell, but Inar Hadensra hadn't been kind either.

George shook his head, but not to dispute her story. "You're some kind of woman, Daine Sarrasri. I'd recruit you to my ranks of spies in a heartbeat, were you interested. I suppose that they're Alanna's spies, now, but for years I was the king's hidden spymaster. I know mettle when I see it."

Daine blushed again, flattered by such admiring compliments and that he would already call her a woman. All of Snowsdale still thought of her as a girl. "I want Blayce stopped, too, and I've reason to not like all three of them. I'll let Numair take care of actually stopping Blayce, if he can, because I don't trust necromancers. 'Specially not necromancers what like working with children."

Numair made the sign against evil on his chest, with the vertical line through an X. George didn't. "I'll keep that in mind," George said, his voice cold, and Daine imagined the look in his eyes foretold bad things for any part of Blayce to come within range of George's knives. "Mayhap I'll bring a knight or two if the two of you don't have it sorted before I come back up. Raoul's a good sort when it comes to not asking awkward questions about protocol."

"He's also one of your old crowd, and the best with Gary riding a desk and Alanna raising six children besides the three you share with her," Numair agreed. "If Alanna wasn't protecting them…"

"If she was off being the Lioness again, we'd have a second Dominion Jewel, a queen, and a knight known for taking necromancy rather personally. She isn't here, though, all from Jon to little Vania need her. If wishes were horses…" George sighed, and for once he did look to be the old man that he'd called himself. "Well, there aren't any beggars riding just yet."

"Tell the king about my da, if you like," Daine offered thoughtfully. She supposed a king would need to know about keeping secrets "If'n he's nervous, it'd be fair helpful knowing the gods are taking his side of things." She blushed under the new scrutiny. Perhaps she'd forgotten to mention that part. "I didn't want to be comin' along, but the badger god said that it had to be me and Numair. Gainel said something, too, and I'm not all sure how many gods said that I'd need to be along. We're the two that'll stop Blayce, and end something even bigger."

She had seen George smile, and had thought that he was a moderately handsome man, but the new grin made her understand precisely why a world-famous knight would choose a common-born man over anyone else. "Well now," George breathed, studying her again. "Aye, I can see that on you. The gods are looking after you, Daine, and you'll have every chance to succeed."

George Cooper left soon after that, but his words rang in her head for a full hour afterward. She knew that tone, and it was one that only those familiar with the gods could use. It hadn't struck her before, but she realized the other side of her chance. If she failed, there might not be anyone else that could rid the world of Blayce.

"We'll do alright," Numair promised her when she voiced that fear. "Between nearly every animal in Scanra, and all of the spies George keeps on his payroll, it shouldn't take longer than a few weeks to know just which fief had been hiding Blayce."

"I've been there, but I forgot near everything of the trip back home. I wasn't my right self, then, so the birds carried me until I could walk again." Daine shivered at the memory, not ready to remember just what they had needed to do to keep her safe. "Birds are very smart, but most of them are very woolly on distances. Eagles and the like only know their own territory, and the birds that fly for winter and summer only know the two places and what falls between."

"You'll know the keep when we see it, Daine. That'll be advantage enough." Numair had spent most of the hour writing a long message on a clay tablet. She didn't understand the language, but hadn't wanted to distract Numair while he was concentrating so hard. He closed his hands together slowly when the tablet was full of the odd markings. The entire thing flared white, and when Daine blinked away the shock of the light, the clay tablet was blank again.

"You just…" Daine looked from the tablet to the mage.

"I sent a status update to Corus," Numair said. The mage didn't look winded or at all tired, even after casually doing the kind of magic her ma would never attempt. "It's a limited form of communication, and not one that's suited to details, but it does keep the Lioness and the king informed about what I'm up to."

"You didn't chant or make circles or nothing." Daine frowned, studying her traveling companion closely. Her ma was a hedgewitch only, but she'd seen the mage that the nearest lord to Snowsdale kept on at a grand salary. He'd needed chants and diagrams to make pictures in the flames of a Beltane bonfire, never mind send something clear across Galla and Tortall without a single word. "I've never known a mage to just do things that way. Just how strong are you?"

"Strong enough to become a bird, when I've the need," Numair replied. The tall man looked embarrassed, when nearly anyone else would have been boasting. "I can be a challenge to Inar Hadensra on his own game, but I know better than to play by his rules. I've spent too much time traveling with the king of thieves."

Daine let the matter drop, seeing that Numair really didn't want to talk about just how strong his Gift ran. She'd think about that on her own time. "I still can't picture George as any kind of thief. He's honest as you said."

"Well, as he once put it, he doesn't have to lie when people used to do all the work for him. He used to go through great deals of trouble to be sure that he could give Alanna presents that hadn't been stolen, and even had a full bill of sale for her first horse. George had the chance to go straight when Jon offered him a pardon in exchange for George's work as Tortall's spymaster, and there was no one better for the job.

"George has the Sight, besides all of his old connections, and it's always served him well. It's a little like the Gift, in that you're born with the talent, but it's nothing so active," Numair explained as he carefully wrapped the clay tablet in a cloak. "He can see lies, for example, but he also has a good eye to anyone with a god's hand on them. He knew from the first look that you were godborn."

"I'm fair used to that being a mystery, but I don't mind. I know both of you could keep secrets, after all of your chasing after the queen, and maybe it'll help King Jon to know that the gods aren't any fonder of Blayce." Daine might have felt more intimidated to know an incredibly powerful mage and a Tortallan lord, but both of them had listened to her opinions.

"I'm happy with any relief we can give him." Numair finished packing the tablet away, and made some small motion with his hand that left his saddlebag fading out of sight. "There. I'd rather not lose any of that, and thieves are welcome to rob the purse George would have hidden under the mattress. He likes benefiting thieves clever enough to get past the little traps he would have put about the windows."

Daine glanced back toward the window curiously, but she didn't need to move from her seat on the bed. Song was happy to tell her about the oil on two footholds that would send a thief falling straight into the horses' water trough.

"Go on, you," Daine teased, feeling the bird's obvious desire to see a two-legger splash down into the water. "Fly around outside for a time or they'll wonder how I found a sparrow-hawk in an inn."

For once, Song obeyed her, but Daine thought that was due to Song's desire to find any more of the traps that George had left for the unwary.

"Do animals usually listen to you?" Numair asked, watching the sparrow-hawk thoughtfully.

"Most of 'em like to listen, as it makes me happy and they know I'm kin," Daine said, feeling Cloud settle down in her stall. "I can make most any of them listen, but I don't like forcing. Chickens are too silly to be much use at all, and I've only worked with animals what have bones in, but rats don't do at all. The other one what wouldn't listen was a rabid bear," Daine continued, before he could ask her about the rats.

Just as she'd hoped, rats were forgotten in place of the much more dangerous animal. "A rabid bear?" he repeated incredulously.

"I could sense it coming, a little, but not soon enough. It killed the blacksmith before we could stop the thing, and there was nothing but several arrows through the head stopping it."

When they went down to the inn proper for dinner, Daine was relieved that Numair had yet to ask her about rats or Blayce or any of the things she didn't want to talk about. He did explain all she could ever want to know of how rabies worked, and the two of them talked about the best ways of finding the rabid animals out faster. From there, he asked how much she knew about anatomy, and they spent two hours detailing the differences between birds and mammals. He was especially interested as he changed between mammal and bird, sometimes, and she was interested in nearly anything to do with animals.

Daine had her own room in the inn, a luxury even compared to her curtained-off place back home. Numair was staying in the room at the top of the stars, and she was in the little cluster of rooms spelled with signs to keep men away. Daine thought those protections were unnecessary given the three cats, dog, sparrow-hawk, and squirrel that had made their way to her bed, but it seemed that such rooms were necessary for a woman of the correct reputation.

In the face of Numair's money, or perhaps the mage himself, nobody had made a single remark about Daine's likely reputation seeing as she was a bastard child. That was a very new experience, but it was tiresome to think people would only be polite because someone else was making them.

She and Numair left the inn early the next morning, when nearly everyone else was asleep. She had avoided any nightmares, surprisingly, and felt very cheerful as she packed her things with a sleepy sparrow-hawk clinging to her shoulder. Numair was quieter, but didn't look to be in an over-thoughtful mood. Daine guessed he was tired because they were on the road just fifteen minutes after sunrise.

A week later, Veralidaine Sarrasri and Numair Salmalín crossed the border into Scanra.


	4. Galla Is Not Enough

_As always, reviews are greatly appreciated, and criticisms about the story feeling too fast or too slow let me know what to change for next time. _

**From Scanra With Love  
>Chapter Four: Galla Is Not Enough<strong>

Daine had spent her entire life never going more than a day from Snowsdale. She had thought that working as Hakkon's apprentice would be all she could want, but now she knew that Snowsdale wouldn't be enough. Why would she want to stay in a little town where no one would ever look past her conception? She didn't want to stay, anymore, not when there was an entire world of people that didn't care. She might go back to see her ma one more time in the mortal realm, but there would be few other goodbyes to make. The animals had understood that Daine might not come back to Galla.

Living with her da would be different, and she still couldn't believe she would be able to enter the Realms of the Gods when Blayce was gone. She would be a goddess, however minor, a goddess that could heal animals and bless those that treated them well. Her ma's reach as a goddess would be just as small, but Sarra would help in childbirthing and healing for all of northern Galla.

Until then, Numair Salmalín was teaching Daine how to use her own magic.

He was a very patient teacher, and he had even started to speak Common in a way she could mostly understand. He would stop to explain the occasional strange word, and she was slowly but surely building up a vocabulary that could let her be the equal of any Gallan noble. She was imitating his speech bit by bit, as she imagined that a goddess wouldn't speak quite so much like a country bumpkin. He had been very nice about saying that intellect rarely had a thing to do with dialect. She had needed both words explained, but the sentiment (another of his words) was very kind. He followed that by saying that George was one of the most intelligent men that Numair had ever met, and he'd started out as a dirt-poor commoner. It was easy to like Numair all the more for his stories of how George had found Numair poorer than dirt working as a street juggler. She hadn't imagined that a man with a black opal hanging from one ear could ever have been poor.

It helped that Numair's lined, tense features softened to animated happiness whenever he talked about wild magic or coaxed her through some new lesson in the philosophical meanings. She'd never imagined that a noble could be so at ease when helping someone like her. He looked far younger than thirty-one when he smiled properly, and he was smiling more and more as the lessons went on. She still tangled her tongue on half of the concepts he explained, but he was thrilled with her progress and what he called a natural perspective. Numair liked to talk with her about right and wrong, good and bad. She liked his grand explanations of morality and ethics. Daine wasn't sure why he gave their rough conversations about good and bad people such weight, but she supposed it was something about being a scholar. She could picture him in a library surrounded by books more than she could on horseback, and that was while she watched him attempt to keep his seat on Bandit, his stalwart steed. Daine rather liked the word 'stalwart,' and had managed to use it four times in one day to Numair's great amusement.

In exchange for his lessons, Daine taught things of her own. She spent at least an hour a day talking Numair through several exercises about improving his balance and finding his best posture on a horse. She rearranged Bandit's tack to find a better place for the saddle, consulted with Bandit and Cloud about the optimal stirrup length, and let Song observe progress from up in the sky. By the time they reached Scanra, Numair could ride along at a trot without wincing or wobbling.

Cloud noticed the changes in Daine's magic well before she did. The pony had agreed to serve as a research subject as well as an advisor. Daine spent half an hour a day attempting to command her stubborn pony to follow Daine's will, and spent very little of that time winning. Matching wills with Cloud took all of her focus and power, and was the best practice a fledgling wildmage could hope to have.

Slowly but surely, meditation was helping. Daine started out focusing her mind for just five minutes at a time, but by the end of their first week traveling together, it was easy to think of nothing while on Cloud's back. Cloud knew more than enough to keep them moving in the proper direction, and approved of anything that would make Daine stronger.

Two days into Scanra, when Daine could win one in two battles of wills against Cloud, Numair had her start commanding more than one animal at once. Cloud and Bandit together were the first subjects, then the two mounts and Song at the same time. Herds of deer were all too easy, as were flocks of birds. Lone birds like the eagles were harder, but when Daine explained things, they agreed to let her try commanding them. She even had permission from a curious alpha wolf to test her will against his pack. Bandit had sweated and shied with so many wolves around, but Cloud had been unruffled. She had only twitched her tail when one of the wolves got a little too fresh.

Her most successful attempt at controlling animals came with the two horses carrying Scanran scouts from the capital. She felt a little guilty for warning the scouts in such detail about the mountain lions in the trees, but Cloud told her not to dwell on it. Cloud was more morally reliable than most people, so Daine took the pony's advice and kept the tactic up on several other scouting parties that drew a little too close to Daine and Numair.

At any given moment, Daine had at least four birds that agreed to scout for her. She could send her eyes along with any of those scouts, with Cloud to steady her and Numair to watch her physical form. She saw miles and miles of Scanra from the vantage points of eagles and hawks and falcons, and had the odd experience of seeing herself slumped on Cloud's saddle with a waist-tie holding her body in place.

When she returned from an abnormally long ride, following a vulture that had soared up as high as any falcon, Numair pressed the last of their bread into her hand. With the fresh bread gone, they'd eat trailbread with their dried fruit and jerky. "You were gone for two hours," he said, answering her usual question. "Song saw scouts, but we were able to avoid them."

The bread from the pub was hard, and not nearly as good as her mother's, but Daine liked hard bread when she was coming back from long trips away from her body. Cloud said it was because something that foolishly human reminded Daine just who she was, and Daine thought the pony might be right.

"Nobody's seen your queen yet, or at least not that they know. I told 'em to tell me when they found a body what didn't have blonde hair, and so far most everyone has." Daine gulped water from her waterskin before continuing. "I saw a couple trappers with black hair, but that was all for today. It'll get harder to scope out when we get near to towns, but Song said that she'd let me ride along. She's the best in villages."

Far above her, Song approved with a loud call that sent a flock of sparrows to scattering.

Numair smiled as he looked up into the seemingly empty sky. "Your control is already far better, Daine. You barely needed me, I think, but it would be hard to find proper training without a library of any kind."

"Most libraries don't know about wild magic, I'd think, even if I could've seen my lord's books and things." Books had been the most that she could hope to have, but now she had a teacher that knew more about wild magic than even her father. She had thought that her mission would all be about the bad times, but she hadn't realized that she would trust someone so completely. Daine definitely hadn't expected to become a friend to King Jonathan's most powerful sorcerer.

Numair could even teach her to heal, when she had a proper patient, and not just with bandages and splints and herbs. Daine could use her magic to heal, and with that, she could have saved any number of her friends, and she could have healed Cloud's leg well enough that the pony didn't limp after a long day's ride.

Three days into Scanra, Daine trusted Numair as much as she trusted her own grandda. He was a sweet man at heart, and he had been nearly as upset as Daine to find a badly wounded fox that a badger had savaged. He talked her through all of what she needed to do to mend a broken bone in the midst of a nasty bitemark, and how to knit the flesh together over that leg and in the deep gouges the badger had left. Daine absently touched the silver badger claw at her breastbone as she worked, but she could hardly blame her badger. It was much like any of the beasties to take an intrusion badly, and the fox had been after a newborn kit.

Her patient promised to be more careful in the future, and Daine smiled to watch the animal run off into the forest. She had been able to heal. A country-born girl without any Gift at all could heal animals, and it was enough for her to float on a cloud of exuberance for all of that day and into the next.

When they'd been in Scanra for five days, Daine worked up the courage to start a much harder conversation than their talks of wild magic and Numair's life in Tortall's capital. She knew that she'd have to tell her story sometime, and she wouldn't want to tell it to anyone else. Even her own ma wouldn't have wanted to hear the details, but she thought Numair Salmalín was made from sterner stuff.

She waited until they'd made camp, but didn't eat anything. She wasn't sure it would stay down after what she had to say.

"I don't remember where Blayce's keep is, really, because I was halfway to mad when I got out." Daine pulled the silver badger claw from her shirt for comfort as Numair set his dinner aside, and fixed her in place with his dark eyes. She knew him well enough to find the concern in that intense gaze, but she still had to swallow roughly before she said anything else. "I had to run out as an animal, when I hadn't known I could be an animal at all, and I fair lost myself going out as a mink.

"Song found me, as soon as I was out of the keep, and she was the one what bit at me until I'd go where she wanted. She hopped along on the ground, like no falcon's keen to do, and called out until Cloud made her way over. Cloud wouldn't let me go anywhere until I changed back to human, and then Song stole me a shift from somewhere. I'm not sure how, but I don't remember much of anything.

"I think Song talked to other animals, because I almost remember a cat coming. From there, Cloud near herded me until I came to myself enough to ride on her back. I know we were a week from the border when I started thinking at all, but Cloud and Song should know the way back to the castle that Blayce was keeping." Daine had been holding the badger's claw tight enough that the sharp end had bitten into her hand, but she didn't ease her grip. The pain of it helped her to focus.

"I went mad because of the dungeons of Blayce's place. Blayce killed children for the machines he made, and I'm sure of that. When I got caught by that tower, Stenmun picked me up right by the neck. He would've killed me there if Blayce hadn't said to leave me live awhile. He said he'd use my soul for the best of his new designs."

Daine didn't know when Numair had moved, but he had been on the other side of the fire last she looked. Now, he had taken her free hand in both of his much larger hands, and that contact was enough for her to loosen her grip on the silver claw, just a little.

"The dungeons would've been bad enough. I was alone, there, and they only gave me a cup of water now and again. No food. I dunno how often Stenmun came with water, but he came at least nine times, and he kept saying what he'd've done with me afore I died. Blayce wouldn't let him, though, or Stenmun would've had me.

"That all were bad enough, but I wasn't all they kept down in the dungeons. After Blayce killed those children, they left the bodies there. That would've been enough, and I still can't take the smell from my memory, but that all weren't the worst. The worst was the rats.

"Rats'n'chickens never have listened to me. Chickens are too dumb to think of much at all, but rats… they're not under Weiryn's keep, and all of 'em know it cold. They have their own goddess, they told me, and their goddess was patient. I slept too light for 'em to bite me more than a few times, but they said they'd eat me when the nothing-man was done with me.

"With the children, they didn't have to wait. Rats drink blood, when they can get it, and there was a fresh body near every day down in that dungeon. Some of those bodies were already down to the bones, but most of them… they just looked like they was asleep, Numair. Just asleep, and then the rats…"

Daine didn't realize she had been crying until he pressed his handkerchief into her hand, but she didn't use it. She looked up at him, and that was all she had to do. He pulled her into a hard hug, because he knew she didn't want gentle. She didn't want soft. She wanted somebody that wasn't going to tell her it was going to be okay, because it wasn't.

"You don't have to talk about it," he said, and it was okay if his voice was quiet. She knew that Cloud and Song were listening close, because Daine never had spoken of the time between being taken with the Snowsdale children from that schoolhouse and leaving that castle as a mink.

Song couldn't fly indoors, really, and Cloud couldn't hope to sneak through a palace when Daine was too weary to call out for help. There had only been six children from Snowsdale, all together, but she and the children had been kept drugged the entire way to Blayce's keep. When she finally woke, she hadn't known where she was at all, but she was in the midst of dozens of young children, and all of them had started to think of her as an auntie. She'd never had children like her, before, when their parents wouldn't, but she couldn't have fun with them.

"I want to talk about it, I think, so's I won't start it all again. I guess I could start up where I was helping with the kids whose parents would let them learn to read. All six of 'em got taken, and me with them when I tried to fight off Stenmun with a chair. I don't remember a thing 'bout the journey, 'cept waking up with a dozen children staring at me. There had to be twenty kids, there, and there were more coming in every while from what they all said.

"The food was drugged. I know because I always slept too deep at night, when I've always slept light as a cat. I didn't eat for two days to be sure, then I snuck around in the night. I can see 'bout as well as a cat at night, too, and always have. I saw light in the stairs leading up to that tunnel, and when I got up to the top, Stenmun had one of those poor little kids held down while Blayce kept chantin' words that made my teeth hurt and my bones a shake.

"The little boy asked for his mama, right afore this… mist, I guess. This white mist came out of him, and then he slumped right down. Stenmun let him fall to the floor, and that's when I snapped. I don't know much of what was in that room, aside Blayce and Stenmun and that boy's body, but there was metal and wheels all over and these empty-eyed shiny metal things lined all along a wall.

"I threw something near the door, some glass globe, and it smashed against Blayce's head. Another white mist came out of that, and that 'un had a girl's voice calling out something I couldn't hear over Blayce yelling and Stenmun fair roaring at me. Stenmun had me a moment later, and that's when he said Blayce's name and offered to kill me there.

"Blayce said no, even when he'd lost control of his mist and lost two souls at once. From the sound of it, the little girl was happier leaving that glass bubble than she'd been in it, so I didn't feel too bad. Blayce said that he'd use me, to make up for losing, and that's when Stenmun took me down all the way to the dungeon. I saw Inar a few times, too. He was the one that helped Blayce with things, and he came to look at me with his real eye shut. He laughed, then, and said that half-a-goddess would be a fine bit of magic to take.

"I think he might've tried taking me, too, but he said he wanted me undamaged for what they'd do later. He said he'd help Blayce, and that he'd not miss that for the world. He's the one what called the horrible machines something—clockwork monsters, he said.

"I wouldn't've gotten out, because I didn't know how to shapeshift and Stenmun took my whole necklace with him. Badger can only find me when I have a piece of him, like a claw, so he had to give me another when I got back to my ma. Ma was fair frantic by then, and about to have my da step through to hunt me for all that it meant that he'd need to pay later.

"I only got out because there was a mouse in that castle. He got through all those rats and all those passages to get down to me, when nothing else could've done it. He was a little'un, barely old enough to have all his fur on and just old enough to be interested in girl-mice. Berry—that was his name—told me I had to get out of there, and that he'd asked the lady mouse-god for help in how to get me out. The mouse-god went and asked badger, and he said to tell the mouse that I could change into anything I wanted.

"The mouse told me that it was too dangerous for me to be his kind of small, and told me to be something with better teeth that still was skinny. I thought of a mink, first, so that's what I was when he showed me the way out. I think we passed Inar and Stenmun comin' down the big stairs, but that's when I forgot most of what happened and had to put most focus on not eating Berry when he'd helped me. Minks eat near everything, and that'd include mice, but I lasted long enough to run outside.

"Song said she could still hear my lifesong, a little, and that's how she knew to come and hop along so I'd go and chase her. I knew not to hurt her, neither, and Cloud was too big for a mink to be a bother even when I bit her once."

Daine's tears had dried, by the end of her story, and she was too drained to be embarrassed that she was sitting in Numair's lap like a little girl. "And that's all of it," Daine finished, leaning her head against Numair's shoulders while his big arms circled around her like he'd protect her from the world. "Song knows the way, and we should get there fast to stop him from killin' more, but we need to get your queen asides if'n she's near."

"Thank you for telling me," Numair said into his hair. With her head against his chest, she could hear his voice rumbling through her. His voice was nice, like a baritone in Snowsdale's times when the men would sing at harvest and the ladies would dance. "You're one of the bravest women I've met, Daine, and I know women legendary for courage."

It was a fair nice thing to say, and Daine was almost sure she thought to tell him. She heard him say something in reply, anyway, and felt the change when he stood up slowly. She'd already set out her bedroll, so he had no troubles in putting her right to bed, tucking her in with hands so gentle she barely could feel his touch. She thought he kissed her forehead, but that might've been from Cloud nuzzling at her shoulder or Song taking watch with all the seriousness a sparrow-hawk could muster.

Daine did know she heard him say "sleep well, magelet," and knew that she'd have a word with him in the morning about just what 'magelet' was supposed to mean. Until then, however, she slept, and she slept without a single nightmare.


	5. For Our Eyes Only

_As always, comments are welcome and appreciated.  
><em>

**From Scanra With Love  
>Chapter Five: For Our Eyes Only <strong>

When Daine woke the next morning after a full night free of dark dreams, it seemed that half of the forest had joined her in her bedroll. A fox and two of her kits were curled under her arm, Song was tucked into the curve of her neck, Cloud stood guard near her head, and they were only the beginning. Four rabbits hopped away from where they had been keeping her feet warm, followed in their exodus by several stoats, four field mice, two minks, a squirrel, and a rangy barn cat that had been sleeping at her sides.

When all of her new friends had left, only Song, Cloud, and the badger were left.

Daine smiled at her old friend, glancing over to Numair's bedroll. He was still sleeping deep enough that she could hear the quietest of snores, so she guessed that a little talking wouldn't hurt. "Hullo, badger," she said, rubbing at his back without being asked.

"You did well to trust Salmalín, kit."

"You heard?" Daine asked, but she knew the answer before the badger's quiet huff. Of course he would have listened; he wouldn't want her to tell the tale twice. "You can tell my da, if you want, but I think everybody'd druther not know just how bad that it got. They were scared enough already."

"None of us could find you." The badger sounded angry and apologetic all at once. "First you were unconscious, then you were too weakened for the magic to reach you, and then one of those mages sent my claw straight to the middle of the great empty plains." The badger rested his head on her knee, and for once it seemed that he had no great teaching to impart. "You're doing everything right just yet, but remember your lessons. If you listen, you can find anyone that you want."

Daine frowned, which the badger took as his cue to nuzzle against her leg for a moment before vanishing. He was entirely too fond of being secretive, in Daine's long experience, and someday she'd remember to tell him just that.

For once, however, she understood just moments later. Song and Cloud could guide them to Blayce, she knew, but someone else would need to guide her to the Tortallan queen. Birds would only see Queen Thayet if she was traveling outside!

Cat? Daine called with her magic, reaching until she felt the faint connection that led to the rail-thin animal. Come back, please. I have meat for you.

That drew the cat's attention, but dignity demanded that the too-lean tomcat sauntered back with no sign that he was a week away from starvation. A cat would rarely accept charity, but she knew he'd accept a bargain. Cats nearly always did when she was the one making the offer. Daine had the meat ready, cut into small pieces with her belt-knife. She had carved a shallow slice into a finger in her haste to cut the meat, but a bit of blood wouldn't hurt a cat.

The cat accepted the offering of food served out of her hands, and ate with deliberate speed until every scrap of jerky was gone and her hands were free of even the oils. He sat back, then, and groomed himself, just as any cat might do in such a situation. Most cats weren't so matted with mud and mattes that they looked to be made of straw and dirt, but he maintained the grand presence that all cats kept as part of their very being.

You called? he asked when both of his front paws were clean.

"I've a favor to ask, if you've a mind to help." Daine knew better than to try forcing her will on a cat. She might be able to win against Cloud two times in three, but Cloud forgave her for their frequent fights. She doubted that a cat could. "I'm looking for someone, and it came to me that asking the birds was all wrong." She ignored Song's indignant squawk. "I need to ask the critters what know people the best."

Who do you hope to find? The cat had stopped grooming his right forefoot to stare at her with his pale green eyes.

"The queen of Tortall. She's real pretty, so humans'll go red when she's near—that kind of pretty. She has black hair and light skin."

I'll tell the barn cats along our way.

Daine hid her smile, because there would be a new member of their odd little party. She always had collected friends wherever she went, and she was pleased that her human companion hadn't batted an eyelash at the animals that flocked to her. "Might I know what you're called?"

Generally, scram or go away, the cat said wryly. I do also answer to Tom.

That time, Daine's smile was obvious, and the cat suffered a kiss to his dirty head. He squirmed away, afterward, but Daine knew that he was pleased. She also knew he'd be a sight with the muck gone from his fur and some more flesh on his bones, but that was another matter entirely. No cat would ever go where it didn't will, and Daine wouldn't be the one to change that.

Numair was still asleep, so Daine saw no great need for modesty as she changed out of the clothes she had worn the day before. He had removed her boots, but the rest of her clothing had been entirely untouched. She wasn't sure just how he had managed to get her to bed so neatly, but she was sure that he had said something about 'magelet.'

She was also quite sure that she wouldn't be sleeping with a breastband on again, no matter how tiring it was to undo the wrap at the end of the night. Her entire chest hurt, so she took her time in wrapping the clean breastband in place to not cause any more soreness. That slow process might be why Numair was awake before she realized. She automatically turned when she heard someone move, and the waking man suddenly had a view of Daine in nothing but clean breeches, leather boots, and a pale pink breastband.

Numair promptly turned bright red. He looked in the other direction so quickly that Daine winced in sympathy; it couldn't have been easy on his neck. Daine grabbed the first clean shirt that came to hand and pulled it on without care that it ruffled her sleep-tousled hair into tangles that would take a quarter of an hour to undo.

"I'm decent, now," Daine announced. She was rather charmed at the blushing; any boy in Snowsdale would have gawped. They were wary of her for both her mother's quiet assurance that her husband would come and Daine's knack with animals. She was too queer for them, and it might have taken them half of a lifetime to do more than trail her with their eyes.

Numair said nothing of the incident, so Daine took pity on him and went to fill in the latrine trench to give him time to dress. He had little else to say when they broke camp, and didn't even ask about the new hanger-on that was perched in Daine's lap. She was ignoring the wild mess atop her own head in favor of grooming the mats from Tom's hair. Daine wasn't all that surprised as his quiet, as Numair never would be a morning person.

A full hour of work brushing tangles and cutting the worst of the mats free revealed that Tom was a handsome slate-gray cat. With that work done, Tom rubbed his head against her hand as a thank-you before nimbly leaping down from Cloud to race away into the woods. Daine watched him go, confident that her new friend would find his way back to her if he liked. It was the way of cats to do just as they pleased.

Daine beat the worst of the dirt from her brush before using it on her own hair. She worked through the first section before realizing that Numair still wasn't talking. When she turned to face him, he was sitting at ease on Bandit's shadow, but with a troubled expression on his face.

"Nightmares?" Daine guessed. He'd been quiet too long. "You've the look of them."

Numair rubbed at his temple, just where the gray was creeping into his dark hair. "My mind filled in what you must have seen, Daine, and I'm amazed that you came through that sane."

"Not quite." She pulled the tough leather cord from inside her blouse to show him the three charms. He blushed yet again to see her protection against pregnancy, one as strong as her ma could create with three layers of Gift, but he was more interested in the rough clay totem and the silver badger's claw. "I just got better later, from being a bit mad."

"This here," she said, pulling at the claw, "is from the male god of the badgers. He looked out for me when my da couldn't, yet, and still comes by when he likes to give cryptic hints I'll sort out after. The other…" Daine rubbed her thumb over the little clay figure. "My da made this, and he said that it was Gainel what helped him make this second one. The first one got took somewhere along that way to Blayce's castle."

Numair studied it, but made no move to reach over across the space between Bandit and Cloud. "What purpose does this serve, Daine?"

"It keeps me human, at least in mind, when I go shifting about. I lose all my clothes when I shift, but the claw stays with me even when no one can see it." Daine tucked the three charms back into her shirt, feeling shyer than when she'd told Numair everything of what had happened in Blayce's keep.

"Thank you for telling me," Numair said seriously. "I feel that I haven't said nearly enough of myself in exchange for so much trust."

Daine thought about her response, wondering just why she could trust him so easily. "Animals like you," she began tentatively. "I like you, too, and I'm usually fair good at telling when people have bad things in mind. It's out of the way they move, like the difference between mountain lions and roes."

"Scholars call it body language."

"Scholars can be fair useful sometimes." Daine grinned when Numair's only reaction was a laugh, and rubbed at Cloud's neck when the pony informed her that it was to slow down. "We're getting near to a big city off the road."

"The capital, I would think," Numair said. "It would be best to—"

Daine never did find out what Numair would suggest, because four separate cats walked out from the forest to stand in their path. Two were skinny black cats that looked just as if they lived by hunting mice, by their muscled grace and alert brown eyes. The third cat, an orange tabby, belonged with a peasant family by its rough collar. The last was obviously a lady's pet, by its thick, gleaming cream-colored fur. The burrs all along the cat's underside would be the job of a devoted owner or, more likely, a maid. Most nobles were nothing like Numair and George.

The orange tabby was the spokescat for the group, and she seemed quite comfortable taking on the role. We bear tidings from Tom Green-eyes, the tabby told her. As cats often do, the tabby looked quite smug.

The two black cats ignored protocol to tell her the next part of the story. We found the black-haired woman! the first said excitedly, rapidly followed by her sister. Well, we helped. The palace cat said she was a queen.

The cream-colored male flicked his ear. My name is Erik, the tomcat corrected. I will lead you through the palace to the queen. She is familiar with me, and I know by her bearing that she can be nothing but a queen.

Daine listened intently, and sent her gratitude when the two black litter-mates ran back to the grain-house and their personal stock of mice. The orange tabby agreed to accompany them for a time, but the cream-colored cat took it as a given that he would ride with Daine on her mount.

She was happy to oblige for such an informative cat. Daine was the one to again use her hairbrush for a cat's benefit, as she was the one that would remove the burrs from the pampered cat's fur. She cradled the cat gently as she translated the conversation for Numair's benefit, and didn't laugh when Numair fell from his saddle with a curse. This was far too important for jokes.

"You're sure?" he asked raggedly.

Numair had been a four year search for his queen, and Daine had found the answer within a month. She was happy that he showed no sign of irritation that her methods were faster. "He is," Daine said, nodding to the cats. "Cats tend to be right, and then they're obnoxious about it after."

The contrary and burr-free cat in her lap purred in response.

Numair inclined his head to the cat, looking entirely sincere. Most grown men wouldn't be able to do that, Daine thought, smiling at the pair of them. The cat acknowledged the nod with lashings of his tail, and with that interaction, they were done. Numair clambered back onto the ever-patient Bandit, Erik settled in to nap, and Daine followed Song's directions to the edges of the capital of Scanra.

Daine knew exactly when Numair had recovered, because he was lecturing about the city and its history just moments later. Daine suspected that she wouldn't like that habit in anyone else, but it was endearing when coming from the lanky mage.

"Properly," he began, "Scanra doesn't have a proper capital. The dominant warlord changes all too often to hope to set up Ekhagen as their base. Ekhagen, however, is where the Council of Ten sits—the ten mages that have quite a bit to do with the politics of the country. Seven of the ten are too old to be any great threat magically, as they have let their power wane, and two of them aren't quite in my caliber."

Daine tilted her head as she listened. She was fascinated that Numair could say such things entirely seriously. He could outright say that he was the stronger mage, and it didn't reek of arrogance. Instead, it seemed like the most natural of statements to make. Maybe she could think of herself that way, someday, instead of remaining halfway convinced that she would forever be Snowsdale's bastard child.

"Inar Hadensra is the last, and as you know, he's the one that I'll concern myself with. Should it come to a duel of magic, I ask that you and any animals in our party leave. Immediately. He would use any and all of you against me."

"I'll go," Daine promised. She knew better than to get in the middle of a pair of mages, even with not having much occasion in her life to meet mages. "Hadensra and the rest mightn't know how I left out of that dungeon, still, so I'll shift if nothing else works. I left behind a dress and shoes, which might be enough to guess, but I'd bet near anything that the rats destroyed those."

"Good," Numair said as the first of the buildings came in sight. "You can get away. I will do my best to engage Hadensra far away from you, anyway, and I'll find you when the battle is over."

"'Cause you aren't all sure you'll win," Daine said, her suspicions confirmed when Numair looked away. "I'll never think to stop you, if'n you think this is what you need to do, but I'll not leave you alone and weak after. The People will tell me who won the fight, and they'll protect you until I'm there myself."

"Practical as always," Numair said, looking quite recovered. "Well, that's the history. The next part is deciding just how we're to get Thayet out."

Daine frowned, and the pair of them thought for a hundred heartbeats before Daine thought of something that just might work. "Can you disguise her, somehow? If you can make something that'll have her change when she picks it up, we could just walk out. I'll change into something that'll not draw much attention, like a cat, and I could bring it right in."

Numair's eyes lit. "You're brilliant," he breathed. "I know just the thing. If you won't mind a collar—" Daine shook her head "—one that'll fall off, if there's a need, you'll be able to get right to her. I'll make sure Thayet knows it's meant for her."

Erik purred his approval. I can show you where the queen is, he promised. They had her agree to good behavior, I believe, and the mousers in the dungeon said that it was through threats to her guardsman. The guard is allowed to wander as he likes as some sort of errand-man and hired guardsman, but the queen is confined to one set of rooms. She always welcomes visitors, and doesn't talk to cats in a high pitch.

Daine relayed the new information, and smiled at Numair's obvious relief. His enthusiasm was contagious, and it was enough to let Daine forget that she'd soon be meeting the most beautiful woman in the world.

"I'll send word to Corus, first. I imagine George will be on his way back, but he has ways of getting in touch with his wife. I'll tell Alanna first, to keep Jon from hoping prematurely."

Daine ignored the shudder of feeling that she was involved in things far too great for the likes of her. She'd met the Lioness's husband, and he'd been a commoner bastard child once upon a time. If he was worthy of the Lioness's attention, then so was she. Even the queen seemed down-to-earth from the few stories that Numair had shared, and she was again the kind of noble to work instead of rest in her silks and laces.

Just two hours later, Numair presented a slim leather collar he'd adapted from a length of rawhide kept for repairing any breaks in the saddle or halter's leatherwork. The cat-collar's charm was subtle, but Numair assured her that Thayet would recognize it in an instant. It was made to light up when Daine dropped it, though Numair was sure no one but the queen would see the light.

The ride to their new location had taken only ten minutes, leaving Daine with plenty of time to finish adding lace trim to the neckline of her best dress. It was a project her ma had put off for nearly a year, and Daine thought she might like to look a little better when changing back to be anything next to Queen Thayet. Breeches had been fine enough for working as a falconer, for all that the village had talked, but her da had insisted that she was able to wear something more appropriate for his get.

However nice her breeches were, however, they weren't the kind of thing Daine wanted to wear when meeting royalty.

Tom Green-eyes joined them, then, as if he had been waiting in the bushes for them to appear just there. I found the right kind of cat, Tom informed her with a loud purr. Greetings, Erik. The black-furred sisters told me your name.

The palace cat leapt down from Cloud's saddle and approached the still-emaciated barn cat with no sign of pretension. Greetings. I do not believe you should accompany us to the palace, but you can keep watch on the male human. I understand that he is important in protecting the demigoddess.

Daine blushed at the title, but she wasn't surprised that the cat knew. Cats had a long habit of knowing everything. I suppose it's time for me to change, she said, fixing the form of the cat she wanted in her mind. "Excuse me a minute or two," she told Numair, distracted with the cat she would become. She walked into the forest a small ways, remembering his reaction just that morning to a bit of partly-bare torso, and folded her clothes neatly on the ground before remembering the cat-form she liked.

Tom and Erik were both staring as she began the change, but she knew just what they wanted to see. She obliged a minute later, finishing the change as a dainty tortoiseshell cat with vibrantly green eyes. She wanted coloring that would suit to the shadows, and had the little touch of vanity to want her coat to look well against the brown leather. It was just the sort of thing that a cat would notice.

Tom looked a little disapproving of her cat-form's trim build and light muscles, but Erik's reaction was far more pleased. If you were a cat… Erik told her.

Daine mewed her reply. She never minded a little attention, as odd as it was coming from a cat. She carefully avoided burrs and nettles on her way back to Cloud, and had to admit that she enjoyed Numair's goggle-eyed appraisal.

"You didn't even take two minutes!" Numair said, nearly dropping the collar. "I did know it was a natural change, but I suppose I hadn't realized just _how_ easily it would… perhaps we can discuss this later?"

Daine nodded, an easy motion in cat form.

"Then let's get you started so Thayet won't be walking back here in the dark. She'll have the appearance of a typical Scanran maidservant, and her clothes will look just ratty enough to let her pass as a higher palace servant. Thayet will know what to do from there. If she can't find Josua, I'll think of something else for the man." Numair had bent to fumble with the collar during his explanation, and took a moment more to fasten the catch. "Paw at this three times and it'll come right off."

Daine meowed her understanding before turning to Erik. There was no use in waiting, and she told herself there would be no need for goodbyes. Not even if Inar Hadensra found Numair while she was away.

The journey to the castle took only five minutes by a cat's run, and Daine catalogued their path carefully. Erik had chosen the path well, leaving plenty of cover over clean forest and few obstacles to leave a trail. Daine wasn't all that fussed about search dogs, when no dog she had ever met would refuse a polite request from her. The guard at the rear of the palace was even better; Erik identified the dark-haired guardsman as Thayet's Josua.

Moving through the palace was as easy as hitting the center of her oldest target. She and Erik frequently stopped for admiration and petting, and after the first such encounter Daine could relax and enjoy the attention. No one noted her as a new animal, as there seemed to be enough people all living in Ekhagen's palace that any lady might be the companion (never the owner) of such a cat.

Erik led her on a meandering course to the third story, and nudged her when Daine faltered. She knew that they were facing the last doorway, so Daine straightened her back and walked into the pretty suite of rooms only to gasp quietly. No one had been kidding about Queen Thayet.

The queen's ravenwing hair tumbled over her shoulders, and contrasted almost completely against cream-white skin. Her eyes were a bright hazel over an arched nose when she turned to greet Erik like an old friend, letting Daine take in a strong-boned face. She might have expected small, fine-boned features, but the angled cheekbones suited the queen as well as her plain black gown.

"Well," Thayet said quietly, studying Daine thoroughly as Daine-the-cat stared back. "I imagine you're no natural cat." Thayet's voice was so soft that none but a cat or owl might hear it, but there was no fear in her eyes. "Are you a friend?"

Daine purred, the most natural response, and batted at her collar until it dropped off. The charm at its center glinted, and Thayet's jaw dropped as she darted forward to snatch the collar up from the ground. At once, Thayet's features changed. Her black hair turned to a cornsilk-pale blonde, and her hazel eyes were blue and slightly too far apart. Her red lips turned pale pink, and her perfect figure snapped to a thin build that made her look slightly too tall for the rest of her.

"Numair's work," Thayet said, scrutinizing Daine all the more closely. She wrapped the collar around her wrist as she thought. "But not Numair."

Daine mewed, glancing toward the doorway.

"Time is of the essence, of course. I imagine there will be plenty of time to chat later." Thayet nodded, reaching her decision. "Just a moment." She stripped the bed, roughly folding the sheets so they would fit into her arms. "Lead on, friend, and let's see where we end."

On their way out of the palace, after bidding Erik farewell and giving her heartfelt gratitude, Daine found herself very impressed with Tortall's female monarch. Thayet greeted several palace maids by name, leaving them disconcerted as they attempted to remember the gangly Scanran woman that looked similar to two separate women that they passed along their way. After leaving her load of sheets at the laundry (following after a woman with a similar burden), Thayet made a good show of looking busy on their way out of the palace.

At the doors, Thayet stopped to talk to the burly, black-beared man standing stiffly at attention near the door closest to the woods. His eyes widened, and he couldn't abort a shallow bow to his queen, but he recovered quickly. He signaled to a guard at the next doorway, giving some pretense about Hilde needing someone to walk her home after all the trouble of the week before. His blond colleague agreed with no more coaxing, and Josua of Pirate's Swoop walked out of the Ekhagen palace without one look over his shoulder.

No one spoke until they were back at the camp, and the first sound was Thayet's quiet shriek of excitement as she threw herself at Numair. Josua was more restrained, clasping forearms with the mage, but the camaraderie between the three was obvious. Daine slipped away, her urge to dress fancier forgotten, and appeared a few minutes later in her patched shirt and best breeches.

"Hullo," Daine said shyly, finding all three humans staring at her.

Thayet's steady gaze was even more intimidating when Daine was at the right level for its full effect. "Numair says that you're called Daine, generally, but oaths are always made to the proper name. I promise now, Veralidaine Sarrasri, that you will have anything in my power to give if you only ask."

Daine flushed, studying the toes of her boots as she recovered from such an honor. "I don't need anything, mum," she said when she felt brave enough to meet the queen's eyes again. "It were the right thing to do."

"Be as it may, Daine, I hope that we can be friends at the very least."

Daine agreed, blushing just as much as Numair had that very morning. Speaking with Josua was far less intimidating. The one-time captain of the guard was an affable man that readily began a conversation about the longbow leaning against a tree, and that talk kept up as the party began to move quickly away from the capital.

They had only two horses between them, but no one was much in the mood to ride. Thayet said she was relishing time on her own two legs, and Josua seemed inclined to follow the moods of his lady. Numair was happy to spend less time on a horse. Half an hour later, Daine hopped up onto Cloud to continue with her meditation practice as the other three had a long conversation about Tortall, Thayet's six children, and the Lioness's brood of three.

When Daine shook herself back into alertness, the rest had already set up the evening's camp. Daine managed to insist that the queen take Daine's bedroll, but it was a near thing. In the end, Thayet only accepted when Daine shared her plan of sleeping next to her pony. Thayet was horse-hearted, which made Daine like her all the more.

The next morning, Daine woke to find Numair already alert and in a fresh shirt. The reason was obvious very quickly. Thayet was awake, and holding a mirror close enough that it reminded Daine of herself cradling an injured pup. When Daine heard just a little, of Thayet speaking to someone called 'Jon,' she excused herself quietly and went to go have a wash-up in the river. She knew that the queen wouldn't want to leave too quickly, and Josua was still snoring quietly from his resting place on the moss.

When Daine came back, Numair was talking to someone else through the mirror. Daine wasn't at all surprised to realize it was the Lioness, but she was impressed that the Lioness would reach them after just a week. From the sounds of it, Lady Alanna would be changing horses at every inn until she could reach Scanra.

Until then, the four of them moved quickly toward Blayce's palace. Numair caught no signs of pursuit, at least at first, so the group spent most of their days alternating time on the group's four mounts and avoiding villages. Daine went through a village twice to buy bread and cheese. Her hair marked her as a traveler, as did the dust on Cloud's saddle, but they all thought enough of her story as the wife of a trapper-man. She provided the pelts of the game she had been taking in as evidence, and left with two bedrolls besides enough foodstuffs for a mountain man.

Daine still felt a little guilty at eating animals, but she hunted cleanly. She separated herself from her magic entirely, and tended to hunt the older animals. She always tried for clean shots that killed almost instantly. First, her grandda and her ma had needed her to bring in the game, and recently their party needed meat. Her shooting was far better than Josua's, and he'd never been trained as a huntsman. She had allowed that Josua hadn't held a bow in over a year, but the guard was adamant. She was a better shot than anyone he'd seen, and he had always been one for a staff.

Daine held her tongue, and said that it was only to be expected from Weiryn's daughter. She wouldn't be able to take those words back. Thayet and Josua thought she was some odd kind of mage, and that suited her well enough.

Their strange little company worked well together, and all of them worked. Even the queen took her turn at digging a latrine trench and beating dirt out of bedrolls. Cloud did her part in carrying all of the new supplies, and still insisted that Daine ride for a few hours every day lest Daine forget how.

Tom was slowly transforming into a sleek grey mouser after days on the trail. He still accepted offerings of fresh meat, but generally he'd trot back into camp with some little animal he had killed himself. To Thayet's great credit, her only reaction was to compliment Tom's hunting when he brought back something new. Even with that addition to the queen's many good traits, it took Daine four days to call her 'Thayet.'

Life on the trail was peaceful, and it remained that way until two days later, the morning Numair shook all of them awake with wildness in his eyes. "You need to get moving," he said curtly, when Daine's eyes snapped open at his touch. "You and Thayet can double on Bandit, and your Cloud already agreed that she could take Josua for a time.

"Someone very strongly Gifted just crossed the wards I set yesterday, and I have strong reason to believe that it's Inar Hadensra."


	6. Rubies Are Temporary

_Cardiology delayed this chapter more than I'd intended, but I hope that it was worth the wait. _

**From Scanra With Love  
>Chapter Six: Rubies Are Temporary<strong>

Numair Salmalín might have appeared alone as he walked back down the path to meet Inar Hadensra, but that appearance only held if one wasn't able to look high into the sky, where a sparrow-hawk wheeled about thermals while keeping Numair within her sight.

Daine's human body was safe and in Josua's keeping. When Daine had suggested her slight alteration of Numair's plan, everyone but Numair had agreed instantly with her idea. Numair would be weak after the fight, and someone would need to be able to keep an eye on him. Song alone could take care of that job, and well, but Daine wanted to keep her mind with her easily distracted falcon to keep the bird on task. Bandit had promised it would be easy to hold her and Josua, especially when Cloud shared that Daine was quite a bit later when letting her mind travel along with a bird. The bones hollowed out, to hear Cloud tell it, and Daine would never doubt her pony.

Numair hadn't liked the idea of Daine coming anywhere near Inar Hadensra, but he had given much more consideration to the idea when she pointed out just how far away Song could be while still watching over him. He had only agreed when Daine promised to snap back to her own body at the first sign of danger, leaving Song as his guard.

Song, rather enchanted with her role in proceedings and with Numair in general, was adamant that she would stay until the very end. When Numair responded to the words with polite thanks, the sparrow-hawk groomed at his hair with her sharp little beak, gently enough that she didn't pull at a single strand.

Daine's body might be safe in Josua's strong arms, but her mind was flying with Song as Numair's long strides cut through the distance. His light winter cloak billowed out behind him as he walked, and Daine thought that he looked like the very picture of a great mage out of a storybook.

All too soon, Daine caught the familiar glint of Inar Hadensra's ruby eye over his broad shoulders and heavy fur cloak. The season was too warm for such a garment to be necessary, but Daine and Song could see a subtle shimmering about the edges. Song grumbled with frustration when the details escaped her eyes; the falcon was not used to having her eyes fail her. Inar had magic all around him, and all Numair had were plain traveling clothes and the best boots that her mother had been able to find on short notice.

Daine threw out her senses as Numair and Inar saw each other from across the clearing. She found a lemming that agreed to let her borrow its ears, even as her mind stayed with Song. She'd never connected with two animals at once, before, but somehow it felt natural to speak with both a falcon and a land-dwelling rodent. Song quieted her usual litany of praises to the sky and to flying out of respect for Daine's stretch to connect with both her body and the lemming that was peering out at the clearing from the relative safety of a shrub. The little rodent didn't provide Daine with a name, but she wasn't surprised. Lemmings were solitary by nature, and most of them never had felt a need to have a name, let alone share it.

When the two mages were close enough to make eye contact, Daine could feel the tension even from her place high in the sky.

"Master Salmalín." Inar's voice was measured, and held none of the open malice that he had always shown Daine. Song was filled with smug triumph at the two deep furrows in Hadensra's lip, and gave several promises that she would repeat the feat. "Your little trick with warding will be of no consequence in the end. Your little queen will never leave Scanra alive."

Numair looked entirely calm from Song's vantage point, but the lemming could see Numair's left hand clench into a fist. "My 'little queen' will remain safe from you and your ilk, Master Hadensra. She is more resourceful than your friends have ever credited, and was merely waiting for someone to come for her. She knew that we would never give up on her, and I won't fail her majesty now."

"I have a different opinion, but it is only an opinion until the fighting is done. By the end of the day, we will see who is right, and who is dead." Inar shucked his fur cloak, revealing gem-crusted black robes that seemed out of place on the rough man. "I must say that you came woefully unprepared, Salmalín. I bear the might of the full Council of Ten against you, but we would accept a surrender written in your blood."

"You'll not get my blood so easily," Numair said grimly. For all that he was the one coated in dust and dirt from the trail, Numair looked far more regal than his elaborately dressed counterpart. "You may as well surrender to me, Hadensra, before you dare set foot on Tortallan soil."

"Your little king will never leave his borders. Not even for his queen." Hadensra's good eye narrowed, as both Song and the lemming could see. "You've left Thayet unprotected. I hadn't thought you'd have the sense to leave her be to face me like the mage you are, not the court fool you've played for so long."

"I've left Thayet beyond my immediate protection." Numair's left hand relaxed as he corrected the Scanran mage, and he looked almost serene standing at the edge of that clearing. "That doesn't mean she's alone."

"That guard of hers will soak the first crossbow bolt or two," Inar agreed, striding into the clearing. "Whatever your queen might be, she is hardly impermeable to arrows. Make no mistake, Thayet will be killed before she can return to Tortall and your king.

"I suppose that little girl could block arrows meant for the queen as well as the guard, but all of Scanra knows to leave _her _alive a while. At least until Blayce kills her."

Numair threw his cloak to the ground with none of his usual playful swirling or sleight-of-hand tricks. "The gods themselves will speak against those metal monstrosities," Numair warned with thunder in his voice. "The slaughter of children would have been enough, but necromancy has always been one of the banned arts." Daine had never heard him sound so impressive as he was then, standing tall and facing down the larger mage across the clearing.

"The chit's paltry sire is already of no matter to me." Inar deliberately tapped a finger against the ruby in his left eye socket. "He has no more power in his entire being than I contain in this globe alone. I can see more than you've ever dreamed, _Draper, _and I have a mind to leave you alive when I end this. You'd be harmless enough with your Gift bound, and I believe a mutual friend would be ever so happy to see you again."

If that was meant to spook Numair, he remained unruffled. "Let's leave his imperial majesty for another time."

"Tsk, Salmalín, that's hardly the correct response. Ozorne does so hate to be kept waiting," Hadensra chided, crooking a finger to beckon Numair forward. From the buckling of the ground beneath Numair's feet, there was more than a gesture in that invitation. "So do I." Without giving Numair the chance to respond, Inar clapped his hands together and deliberately drew them apart, revealing an expanding spear between them that shimmered red in the afternoon sunlight of their oblong clearing.

Numair took his footing, looking as calm as before, but Daine couldn't help but think how small a six-foot-five-inch man could look at his end of the gap in the trees.

Inar threw forward a spear as long as his arms could stretch, a spear that was taller than Daine and the same size around as her upper arm. Only a breath later, black magic streaked along the red surface, forcing the spear up into a tight loop before it crashed into the ground between the two mages.

Her connection to the lemming vanished with a brief squeak, and Daine had to remind Song not to hunt the poor thing as the small rodent ran from the scene of the mages' fight. Song agreed only because they had a more important task at hand. Someone had to watch Numair, and Daine told herself firmly that it had nothing to do with a deathwatch. If anything, she was watching because the occasionally vain man never did the extent of his magic justice.

Daine didn't understand what Numair had done, but she saw a bead of sweat on Inar's brow as he fought to combat a barely-visible white mist that glistened with white sparks as it touched Hadensra. Whatever Numair had created—

Suddenly, Daine heard him again, as her stalwart lemming had returned from a better listening post. This one was protected by two separate trees and was nowhere near the middle of the clearing. The lemming wasn't leaving Daine just yet. "—an idea I took from Ozorne's men, as it happens," Numair explained, no cordiality in his voice. It was strange to see the planes of his face in so harsh of an expression, but his dark eyes were just the same. They were snapping with rage, but there was nothing of the animalistic anger she had found lurking in both Inar and Stenmun. "They laid magic dampeners in a fog when they came for my queen."

"You were there, Salmalín." Inar tore off his topmost layer with a growl, and with no care that he scattered gemstones onto the ground. "You lost out then, and you'll lose now."

In response, Numair repeated his trick with the mist, this time drawing something like a roar from the larger Scanran. Hadensra retaliated with a rush of flames, each fire flying through the air like a child's ball. Numair dissipated most of them with a wave of his hand, but maneuvered five into his hands. Daine's jaw would have dropped, had that been an option to her, and even Song was impressed. The daft mage was juggling, and juggling fire at that. Inar looked suitably stunned, which left Numair all the opening he needed to drop the flames and shout something that violently shook the ground beneath Hadensra's feet.

"This is no game, Draper," Inar growled. "Staghorn said you'd never grow away from foolishness."

"Staghorn is dead," Numair said, flicking a speck of dirt from his sleeve. "And for all of Ozorne's obvious strength… here I am, Hadensra, and you'll do well to remember that."

Hadensra shifted his weight, balancing himself to better prepare for some new attack. "You never had the tripe to fight him straight."

If Daine had never met Numair Salmalín, and had only seen him in that next moment, she would have found him terrifying. His dark eyes were fixed into a glare, his posture reminded her of an attacking bear, and there was nothing but confidence in his gaze as he stared Hadensra down. "You're wrong, Inar. Ozorne never had the 'tripe' to fight _me._"

For half of a moment, Inar was stunned, but he recovered all too quickly. "Then you should have no trouble with this!" Inar shouted several words that made Daine's teeth hurt, for all that she was in a falcon's body, and something that almost looked like a horse emerged from the air to stand beside him.

Just as the immortals were wrong, the eight-legged horse with the coal-black coat was wrong. It had two legs coming off each quarter, and its left eye was just as red as Hadensra's. It charged forward, fire under its hooves, only to stop cold when Numair saidd a word that made the air shake and the lemming bite off several curses as it scrambled up onto the place where two tree trunks joined together.

When the dust cleared away, there was a stone statue of the eight-legged horse in full gallop just ten paces from Numair, trapped with its red eye rolling. A second later, the eight-legged stone monster crumbled to dust.

Hadensra smiled. It was the closest Daine had ever seen to a human taking on the look of that rabid bear. "Defensive magics, Salmalín, they'll be the death of you yet. I know how close you played it with Tristan Staghorn, thinking that old men like him and like me can change our ways. He nearly had you, but I'm glad now that he saved you for this fight. You're more inventive than my typical opponents. I'd forgotten."

Numair's expression didn't change. "I'm a mage, not a butcher… though in your case I may make an exception."

"I'll always be the exception, Salmalín, and so will you." Hadensra drew a knife from his belt, but he didn't turn it against Numair. He made a deep cut against each palm with quick, precise strokes, and palmed his hands together in a loose sphere. When he drew his hands apart, he held two blood-red eggs, one in each palm. The cuts in his hands still dripped blood, but that didn't explain the deep hue of the eggs. "There's no reason for exceptional men like us not to get along, and this will be my only offer.

"Join my Council, and have your chance to change the world to your own design."

Numair shook his head. "Let's get on with the fight, Hadensra. I won't take you up on your promises."

"As you wish, Salmalín." Hadensra threw the eggs against the ground, and laughed in a low rumble when the very essences of two ravens rose up from the ground. They looked like rough ink paintings come to life, no more substantial than the silk. One's right eye was red, matching the other's left eye. Despite their apparent fragility, neither looked anything but menacing, and neither were affected by any of the spells Numair worked against them as they moved toward him.

The ghastly black thing flew far too slowly to be any natural kind of animal, their ink-black wings flapping leisurely as they drew close enough that their wings passed through Numair, leaving bloodied welts beneath tears in his shirt.

Daine couldn't have stopped Song's screech of displeasure even if Daine had wanted to keep the bird quiet. It was too natural to react when Numair (who was _not _Daine's wing-mate, or at least he wasn't yet) was hurt.

Numair couldn't help the instinctive glance up, but Inar didn't seem to understand. "The birds won't save you, Salmalín. Only surrender."

"You keep saying that like you don't think you'll win otherwise," Numair retorted, even as the birds passed through him from the back, this time through the abdomen. The hem of his shirt fell away to the ground after being severed by the false ravens. "I won't surrender to the likes of you."

The ravens returned to Hadensra, settling on each shoulder with no sign of harm to their creator. "These are my hallmark, Salmalín, and they'll take life from you piece by piece until nothing remains. On their next pass, they'll take memories, and on the third…"

Numair remained steadfast even as he wavered on his feet.

"They'll sap your strength, bit by bit," Hadensra repeated gently. "This will be your last chance, Salmalín, and my superiors would urge you to accept it."

Numair said nothing.

The ravens flew back to Numair, and several spells and flashes of light did nothing to disband them before they both crossed through Numair's head, leaving more red marks that steadily dripped blood down his cheeks and forehead. "I'd sooner die than join you," Numair said quietly, looking as if that would be his permanent choice. Daine and Song shrieked together in denial of that option, because they wouldn't watch him die. "No matter what you do… you will never be able to use Thayet against Jon, but you already know that. She's too strong-willed to keep under a focus forever, and you remember her mother.

"You remember that Kalasin killed herself, and you remember that her death-song still haunts Sarain. You remember that the gods turned their faces from Adigun _jin _Wilima."

"I have no need for gods, Salmalín, but you may well need yours." The red eye of each raven glowed. "Pray to them while you've the chance."

Numair shook his head. "Stop delaying the inevitable, Hadensra."

Hadensra's brow rose. "Giving up so easily, Salmalín? I'll remember this when I find your queen and your little protégé. If we had the time, I'd ask if she's as good as Snowsdale rumors had it." Numair's jaw was already clenched, but Hadensra hadn't finished. "She's not the type to interest me, but Fodeben's not so choosy."

Numair deliberately raised his left hand and tugged the black opal eardrop free.

"You'll need more than a stone to best me, Salmalín, but you've always known that you didn't have the stones to take on a mage of your own caliber. You'll never be known as anything but Jonathan's pet mage."

Numair opened his left hand, but nothing fell. The opal the size of Daine's smallest finger had vanished entirely. "Try me, Hadensra. Try your little birds one more time, and we'll see who's the pet mage."

Daine flinched when the two ghostly ravens launched themselves at Numair, but Song chirruped with triumph when both vanished in a flash of black with afterimages of white sparkles. Numair whispered a word, next, so quietly that the lemming heard nothing, and Inar Hadensra's clothes fell to the ground as a small, fluttering figure emerged from the top of them.

Before Daine realized just what Numair had done, Song had spun into her fastest dive, gaze fixated on a sparrow that hadn't been there before. Just moments later, Song's talons impacted the sparrow that had been Inar Hadensra, and a very smug falcon ripped the head off of her prey before making her way to the ground.

Numair dropped to his knees, suddenly looking quite grey. "Impeccable timing, Song—and Daine, I would think?"

Song bobbed her head agreeably before turning back to her kill.

Cloud? Daine called. He's won, and it doesn't look that Inar brought more with him. Song and I didn't see a trace if any were there.

We're on our way, Cloud promised. The queen says that he always goes too far.

Daine had to wait for Song to finish with her kill before the falcon hopped over to check on Numair. His swarthy skin still had overtones of grey but his eyes were alert. "Are any more coming?" Numair asked.

The meaning of Song's dismissive noise was quite obvious.

Numair smiled as he offered two fingers as a perch. Song stepped up readily, and settled herself on the offered shoulder to again fuss at Numair's hair. Daine let the falcon mother the mage, and left for her own body.

When she opened her eyes, there were feathers all down her arms, but Josua and Thayet didn't look at all upset. "There you are," Thayet said, her expression warm and her pleasure obvious. "I am glad that you were watching after Numair. He's difficult to watch in those fights, but I've always thought it's because he's too much of a showman."

"He worried me," Daine admitted. "Him and his part of playing defense alone, mostly, but he did start out with putting something that wets magic into a fog."

Daine couldn't see Josua's expression, but it was easy to tell that the man was pleased. No one's voice could sound so pleased without a smile. "That's just the spell they used against him! Very clever man, and very good timing. We'll have milady here shortly."

Thayet tapped her mirror. "Jon made this so that it would function even without Numair, and it took half of our mage council to do it. They found a way to store magic in black opals so that I could activate this with voice alone.

Daine whistled, taking in the queen's ransom of black opals lining the back of the mirror. She hadn't noticed, before, but she'd only seen the mirror cupped in the queen's hand. "My ma's biggest spells might put a shine on that mirror, but you all act like Numair's fair normal. I weren't—wasn't—even surprised to see a few of the things that Numair managed to do."

"I haven't a drop of Gift, but you get used to grand mages all over the place." Thayet rubbed a smudge from the edge of the mirror. "I did marry one, after all, and Alanna is one of my closest friends for all that I haven't seen her in what feels like forever. She'll be joining us shortly."

"The Lioness?" Daine squeaked. It didn't matter that she had been warned, or that she'd met Queen Thayet and seen Numair Salmalín force another mage to take an animal's shape. There were impossibilities and then there was the most known woman in the world.

Josua chuckled. "She'll like you," he promised. "You kept an eye on Numair, and that's a task and a half in itself."

"We'll leave that for now, I think," Thayet said, sparing Daine the thought of meeting someone more famous than Thayet the Peerless. "We should be almost back to Numair, from the sounds we could hear from the fight."

"It's hard to tell from the ground, mum, but I've been able to hear Song since I left her. She likes Numair." Daine did, too, but she thought that was entirely obvious. Snowsdale had been sadly deficient in attractive men that thought she had anything worthwhile to say. "I'd say we're just two hundred paces off from the clearing."

Song cried out in approval; Daine winced in sympathy for Numair's ears and disentangled herself from Josua's arms to run ahead with her waterskin in hand.

Numair was just where she had left him, and he looked just as bad to her human eyes, but he was alert and still had it in him to stay upright without help. Daine supposed that he could have done worse, and his voice sounded strong when he spoke. "You're a sight for sore eyes, magelet. Is the water for me?"

"And I'll get more when you've finished it," Daine said, pressing the waterskin into his grasp. She looked him over again, taking in the bloody wounds and the strips of missing clothing. Daine and half the world knew that the Lioness was a healer, and it seemed that Numair could use one. "Thayet said that the Lioness is going to be here soon."

"Ah, good. Alanna would hate to miss an occasion to tease me after I overreached yet again." Numair fumbled the cap of the waterskin open before drinking greedily. He drained the entire skin before wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. "Song assures me that she didn't mind being part of my little subterfuge at the end. I would have given her warning if I'd had the idea before, but it worked too well for me to not try it. I'd had a mind to turn him into the least offensive immortal that came to mind, as he wouldn't be able to change back, but forcing any kind of change takes a lot of power.

"I trusted to your discretion and Song's instincts. Hadensra didn't realize just how dangerous it was for me to change him into something small and difficult to attack with magic." Numair set the waterskin aside, not looking as if he'd need more. That only meant she wouldn't need to leave just yet.

"If anything, Song's fair proud of herself and like to stay that way." Daine sat down beside him, guessing that he wouldn't be standing on his own power just yet. "It's quite a ride down from the top, like that. I might not remember to be so afraid of heights awhile after that dive."

Song launched herself from Numair's shoulder, swooping back down to brush her wingfeathers against Daine's cheek before flying back in the direction of Cloud and the rest. Daine thought that they would have arrived to the clearing by then, but perhaps the horses had found a tangle of underbrush that hadn't bothered a two-legger.

"I didn't have time to warn you," Numair said, glancing toward where Inar's clothes were still flat against the ground. "I knew they'd want to recruit me, and I also knew about his ravens. Inar Hadensra never finished a fight after his mastery without summoning them, and I've studied a little of the makings behind that spell. I knew that I could beat them, but I didn't want to give that away until he'd committed too much."

Daine flicked at his shoulder lightly enough that the impact barely went through the remnants of his shirt. He looked far too fragile for anything else. "I was fair worried about you! I am glad you had it in hand even though it didn't look to be the case at times."

"I don't tend to have an audience," the mage explained. "If we do have a next time, against Blayce, I'll be sure that you know my plans beforehand."

"Blayce might be my problem, but… I'd welcome the help," Daine said shyly. She felt that she was asking for more than backup in taking a necromancer out of the world. From the look slowly entering into his eyes, it seemed that he might even agree. "The gods wouldn't've sent you on with me if'n I weren't—wasn't—supposed to get any help." Daine faltered, caught up thinking about the kind of woman he'd usually see. She would know how to talk properly, at least, and probably be quite a bit more attractive than a lean, compact mess of muscle, as the Snowsdale boys had thought. The girls they liked were softer around the edges; their ideal girl wouldn't be carrying a longbow over a shoulder or wearing breeches.

"If you asked me, Daine, I would be able to tell you all manner of things about the study of natural dialects and regional grammar constructs. At that point, however, I would probably be too distracted with the scholarly nature of the discussion to remember the pertinent point.

"I will never judge you for the way you speak, and neither will any people that I call friends."

Numair gave the words the weight of an oath. Daine couldn't help but believe him. "Then mayhap I'll be the one what rubs off on you," she said, feeling some unknown bit of tension fade to nothing. "I'll have you talkin' like a proper Snowsdale man speaking in commoner-Common."

"I'm commoner-born myself, I'll have you know, but Tyra's commoners aren't nearly so charming in speech."

"Explains why you fit so well in Cría," Daine said, not entirely surprised by that new piece of information. Even if he'd been born a commoner, no man with that much magic would be able to stay one. He drew too much notice and attention, and even an emperor had called him an equal at some point. She could read that much into his few mentions and vague stories. "Also explains why you juggle?"

Numair smiled, and looked very much as if he'd demonstrate for her if he had the objects or the energy to juggle. "When I was a little boy, I wanted to be a Player. I picked up juggling and sleight-of-hand on my own, and I was actually quite devastated to have the Gift at first. It took me nearly a month to decide that I'd be a magical Player."

Daine giggled for the delivery, but was charmed by the story. "You still can juggle, I saw that, and you've all the makings of a Player. Maybe you'll have your chance when the war's done and over."

"When the war's done… magelet, those might be some of the prettiest words I've ever heard," he said.

Something that _she _had said left one of the world's most powerful mages with stars in his eyes. That was distracting enough that she nearly forgot her important question. "Numair? What's 'magelet' mean?"

He blushed, which made her all the more interested. "Nothing. Just—er—'little mage.'"

Daine tilted her head, wondering why such a simple answer could drive such an eloquent man to a stutter. "And you thought I'd mind?" she guessed. Daine didn't realize that she was pinning the mage with a look of her own, or how difficult that it was for him to nod. She was a woman grown by her village's standards, but among the nobles of Corus, she was only of age to be courted by squires and newly fledged knights. From the viewpoint of Tortall's capital, seventeen was far too young of a woman for him to pursue. "I don't, Numair, honest. I don't think there's anyone else I'd like to hear that from, but I'd never mind it from you." He had always taken her seriously, and he still treated her with respect. She didn't mind a pet-name from her first best two-legger friend.

The look in his eyes was something she'd never seen before, and something that knowing all manners of animals couldn't interpret. There were some things that only humans did, and maybe this look was one of them.

Before she could decipher the look, however, he looked past her as Daine felt two horses enter the other side of the clearing. Both were friendly beasts that listened to their riders' vocal commands in Common, not Scanran. When Daine turned to look, she had the distinct sensation that it wouldn't be nearly so easy to ask for the word's meaning a second time.

The rider on the bay mare was familiar, but the woman on the golden stallion with a black mane and tail was nearly as familiar. Her bright red hair and brighter violet eyes were easy to see from all the way across the clearing, and only one woman carried a shield with a rampant lioness as its design. The painted lioness was increasingly clearer as the mounted pair approached Numair and Daine.

The woman jumped down from the tall stallion gracefully, easily taking the impact with her knees. "Hello, there," said the Lioness. "You must be Daine."


	7. Live And Let Live

_Comments and thoughts are always appreciated.  
><em>

**From Scanra With Love  
>Chapter Seven: Live And Let Live<strong>

The Lioness wasn't at all what Daine had expected. For one thing, the red-headed warrior was half a head shorter than Daine herself. For another, the woman was immensely practical in a situation that didn't require her sword. Within minutes of the greeting, Numair was restored to his normal state of health, though he'd received a firm lecture about not overreaching his Gift again for the next four days.

Still rather intimidated by the Lioness, Daine had opted to reunite with George. George was happy to tell her funny stories about their ride out of Corus, and he didn't tease that Daine didn't seem to want to meet his wife. He looked like he had expected just that.

"Me? I'm good at blendin' back into the scenery. It was part of how I lasted so long as the king of thieves. Alanna's never quite learned that trick, but I'll always blame part of that on her hair."

Daine blinked, surprised by the sudden turn in conversation. "Her hair?"

"Nobody with hair that bright could ever've gotten practice lurking about in corners. It caught my eye clear across the crowd, first time I saw her, and I nearly got stepped on by two separate horses to get over and say hello. My Sight told me that I'd need to know her, and I've always listened to my little whisperings."

Daine glanced over. George was definitely right; the Lioness's hair was very distinctly red, a shade that Daine had never seen before. Daine's brunette locks were odd enough in Scanran-blond Snowsdale. Numair was the first person she'd met with black hair; red was entirely foreign. Novel hair or not, Daine still would rather talk about someone familiar. "Numair looks better now."

"My lass knows her business, and she knows Numair. She'll have him out on the carpet for showing off when there was nobody there to even see," George said knowingly, nodding toward the pair. Sure enough, even from halfway across the clearing they could hear that the tone of the Lioness's monologue was displeased. Numair looked entirely unruffled and even nodded in agreement with several points.

"Well—I was here to watch, this time. Not here-here," she added quickly when George would have disapproved. "I can ride along with animals, and this time it was Song. My mind travels with them while my body was somewhere else, and that was with Josua and the queen. I don't know why they're taking so long to get here."

We stopped to rest, Cloud told her, but the pony sounded altogether too sly. Cloud wasn't above being sneaky when she thought it would be better for Daine. We'll be there in just another minute.

"What's the estimate?" George asked, just as if it were normal for a girl to get an update from an animal somewhere.

"Another minute. Cloud said they stopped to rest. I can't imagine why, when it was so close, but maybe Bandit got a little tired from carrying me and Josua both." That didn't seem likely, when Bandit had promised that he would be alright, but it might have happened.

George looked from her to Numair and then didn't say whatever was on his mind. He introduced a new subject before she could ask what he would have said. "Numair is going to underplay whatever it was he did, for all that the man can be vain as a cat when it suits him. He undercuts his own Gift, generally, but here we finally have someone that saw the fight. How'd he end it?"

Song soared down to lightly land on Daine's shoulder. Daine hid a smile. Song could be as vain as a cat, too, but the bird didn't like to hear such things. "This little lady helped," Daine said, preening at the junction between the sparrow-hawk's head and neck. "He turned Inar into a sparrow, at the end, and before Inar knew what happened…"

"Before he knew it, he was lunch." George offered a hand to the falcon. "May I?" he asked. When Song bobbed her head, he mimicked Daine with no fear for the falcon's intimidating beak. "You had quite a bit to do with Inar's sudden defeat, little one."

Daine didn't hide her smile, that time, but Song had always liked compliments. "Falcons can move real fast, and Song promises that her type's the fastest out there. I'd believe it. Sparrow-hawks can eat most anything, but their favorite is other birds. I've seen her take down bigger hawks than her when she gets in a mood."

They might have talked more about the falcon, but Alanna's yell surprised that out of them. Thayet had come to the edge of the clearing, and the knight and the queen ran to each other for a hug that nearly knocked both of them to the ground. George excused himself to walk over to the pair. For a moment, Daine felt very lonely. A second later, Numair was there.

"I imagine you'll have nine tenths of Tortall in your debt, magelet." He looked far better than he had ten minutes before, and he smiled when Daine told him just that. "Alanna knows healing, and she'll always be more patient with wounds than she is with people. You may as well talk to her when you feel ready. She and George might have ridden up together, but they're splitting forces. George will be escorting the queen home, and Alanna has a mission of her own. Jon wants Rathhausak dealt with for his little practice of holding onto hostages, and with the Council of Ten severely weakened, she has a chance of ending Scanra's war with us single-handed."

Daine couldn't help but look at the woman dwarfed by Josua. The guardsman had bowed before joining the queen and the Champion, but he looked comfortable in such grand company.

"Don't let her size fool you," Numair warned. "She's been teaching me how to fight 'properly' for the last several years, and she's set her husband at me besides. I doubt I'll ever be able to do more than knock her over."

Daine fingered the edge of her bow absently, drawing a little comfort from the one kind of fighting art she'd ever had a knack for. She had thought that it all had been her father, once, but Weiryn had sworn the talent was all hers. He was proud that she was a huntress, and such a hand with a bow, but it hadn't been any kind of guarantee. "I s'pose I might as well meet her," she said finally. "Her majesty's not bad to know."

"George has yet to like someone that she won't, Daine," he promised, and she believed him. "Alanna's temper is just as bad as all the stories say, but she'll never have reason to be angry with the woman that found Thayet."

Daine might have stayed indecisive if he hadn't offered his hand. She felt braver with the only difference of his hand clasped around hers. "Alright, then," she said. "Let's go say hello."

Walking across the clearing didn't seem to take long enough at all, as Numair let go of her hand when they were close enough to disrupt the group hug. Thayet winked at Daine as the four untangled themselves, George smiled, and Josua nodded to her. The Lioness, by far the smallest of that group, was looking directly at Daine.

The Lioness's purple eyes were sharp, but her expression was kind. "Well met, Veralidaine Sarrasri. All of Tortall owes you a debt, and I include myself in that."

Daine blushed, but didn't look away. "It was my honor, really. I never thought I'd be part of adventures."

"That's the start of the best of them, I think," Alanna said encouragingly. She had the look of a woman accustomed to people being embarrassed for just talking to her. "I'm sure we'll have time to catch up on the road. If it was this easy for me to find the scads of magic coming out of the area, it'll be easy enough for the Council of Nine."

That goaded everyone into action and the necessary business of finding the best way to transport six people on four horses. George's mount had been specifically chosen so that he could ride with Thayet, all the better to protect her. The horse (named after a Corus hostler) was a strong, solid mount with an unexpected amount of speed. Daine was enchanted with Stefan on first meeting, though Alanna's dark-maned cream-colored stallion was quickly jealous. Daine found it very easy to compliment Darkmoon, and was glad that no other horse was so mercenary in seeking attention. Stefan was used to Darkmoon's antics, and Cloud was only amused.

Josua ended up taking Alanna's Darkmoon, while George and Thayet rode Stefan together. Numair kept his seat on Bandit, and Alanna (as the shortest present) would ride Daine's pony. Daine was accompanying the party as a wolf.

Josua knew little of magic, but Thayet was surprised at Daine's second form, and Alanna's eyes widened when the russet-colored wolf emerged from the woods carrying a neat pile of clothing. George quickly distracted both women with stories of Thayet's children. Daine didn't know much about Tortall's heirs, but she liked listening even as she ran ahead to scout their path. The oldest was a quieter boy since the queen's departure, but her daughter had made herself a one-woman crusader to keep her father smiling. Kalasin, it seemed, was the realm's second female page in centuries, and the first woman to openly try for her shield in all of that time. She was not the only girl, however, because young Keladry of Mindelan had joined Kalasin within a week of the announcement.

The Mindelan house had spent years winning the tenuous treaty with the Yamani Islands, but it seemed that a true alliance couldn't come until Tortall wasn't besieged on three fronts. Thayet seemed sure that Scanra was putting most of their hope in the machines that Blayce was making, and George was sure that the Copper Isles would self-destruct given the Rittevon line's frequent mad members and a whispered prophecy throughout the conquered raka people.

Daine caught their names, but missed stories about Liam, Lianne, and Jasson while she conferred with a local wolf pack and made her peace with its leaders. Wolves were very easily convinced that she was no great threat to them, but the necessary formalities took time. When Daine left a new group of friends behind, she heard the latest about Vania, Thayet's youngest child. She had been only three when Thayet had been taken. It seemed that Vania had demanded (and received) lessons in staffwork, and that there might be a second princess that became a knight.

The party didn't travel together for long. At the head of a trail that Daine couldn't tell from the four trails before, George pulled at the reins of his horse. "This is where we part, and Goddess's blessing and Kyprioth's luck to all of you."

Alanna and Thayet hugged again before the party separated, and Bandit agreed to accompany Josua south to Tortall. That left Numair, Daine, and Alanna with a horse and a pony between them, but Daine could easily keep a horse's pace as a wolf.

Traveling on without Thayet and George left the trail much quieter. Numair was still tired from the earlier fight, and Daine didn't think anyone would want to interrupt the hard focus in the Lioness's purple eyes.

Daine amused herself by visiting with the wildlife that they passed, or by chatting with Tom. The thin grey tomcat had stayed with them, and was currently curled in Alanna's lap. The cat had easily marked her as a cat person, and there had only been one protest about not needing another cat-friend before Alanna had folded. Cloud said that the cat would be going home with the Lioness, and Daine thought that was the right of it.

Nothing very interesting happened until half an hour to sunset, when they stopped to eat dinner and to make a fire. Song had been able to tell for certain that there was no one on the roads near them for miles around, and Daine would have ample notice of anything or anyone moving through the trees.

While Daine changed back to human, and slipped back into her clothes, she could hear the beginnings of a conversation. When she made it back to their chosen clearing, the topic was very clear. The Lioness was thinking about coming with them, instead of immediately going to deal with Maggur Rathhausak.

"I'm going with my gut," Alanna said as Daine walked into the warmth of their fire. "That says to stick with you. There wasn't any account of Rathhausak at the capital while Thayet was there, and I trust her to be sure."

"We can use your help," Numair admitted easily. "I could use my Gift now, if the need arose, but… not well. Dueling another master takes more than magic, every time."

"I can imagine, Numair. I've had very few proper mage duels, and never with someone of Inar's caliber. Roger and I settled most of our disputes through swordplay with his trickery on the side." Alanna again had the cat in her lap, and Tom was purring very appreciatively.

"I'll welcome the help," Daine said when she was close enough to catch their eyes. "Numair and I would do well enough, but all I've to offer is animal-type magics and my bow."

"If your bow's a third of what your animal-magics can offer, we'll be thankful for it," Alanna replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be calling Jon to let him know that his wife is on the way, and sharing just what Thayet learned."

Daine didn't know what to say in return, and had nothing to say before Alanna vanished into the darkness with a palm full of violet light to guide her path.

"She's looking to give us time to talk without talking over her," Numair said. "That grey cat went with her, so you'll know the moment something's amiss."

The grey cat in question was settled comfortably in Alanna's lap, paying several detailed compliments about the Lioness's exemplary technique in locating the correct part of the ear to rub, not scratch, as the Lioness spoke into a glowing mirror. Daine let her awareness fade back to her clearing alone. Daine didn't like eavesdropping on friends, and Alanna seemed determined that the two of them would be friends. Contradicting that plan was even more frightening than being a friend to Tortall's Champion.

"I think I like her." Daine felt lonely without an animal curled near, but there were no likely candidates in sight. Cloud was resting and in no mood to be cosseted, Song was asleep, and Tom had followed Alanna. She'd have to make do with a two-legger, then, and she wasn't likely to find a better one in Scanra. "I also think she'd be able to make me like her, if she'd the need. I've heard tales that she's stubborn."

"Stubborn isn't the half of it," Numair said with a laugh. He had a very nice laugh, and in the firelight he looked all the better. Daine's half-formed ideas about what she'd like to do with such a man were surely transforming into things that she _could _do, if he'd the mind to agree. "She's grown quite a bit from who she thought she was going to be. George helped the most, as she tells it, but everyone agrees that her children helped. Her oldest boy is ten years old, now."

"She doesn't look it," Daine said. "None of you do." She caught Numair's hand when he would have touched it to the silver at his temples. She hadn't planned to be quite so bold, but she couldn't turn down such a moment. "I think you're fair handsome, Numair Salmalín." The compliment might not have been enough to make her intentions clear, but she had a solid grip on his wrist and she was kneeling directly beside him. With him sitting on the ground, that left her just tall enough to see straight into his dark

Numair tried to pull his hand away, but he was too surprised to put in much of an effort. "Daine, you are slightly more than half my age," he said when she didn't let go.

"Numair, I'm an adult, and you're an adult, and there hasn't been one mention of a woman or a child or a wedding. Am I wrong?

"You're not wrong, but this isn't right." He pulled his wrist away from her, but he didn't push her away when she leaned closer. "It would be the worst kind of deception if a mutual infatuation led to…" His voice trailed away when he realized just what he had said.

"If it's mutual, then what's the harm?" she wheedled. "I've never met a man like you, and I won't meet one again in Snowsdale. No one's to be harmed by a bit of fun."

Daine thought she saw regret in his eyes when he shook his head and edged a little away from her. "I couldn't, Daine, and I won't," he said quietly. "My days of 'a bit of fun' are long behind me."

There was nothing else to say to that. Daine retreated to her edge of the fire while he fussed with his bedroll, but she didn't bother with her own. She left a neat pile of her clothing near her pack after changing into a wolf. She didn't fall asleep until long after the Lioness undid her own bedroll and bid her goodnight.


	8. License To Maim

_Enjoy! _

**From Scanra With Love  
>Chapter Eight: License To Maim<strong>

If Alanna noticed just how quiet the next morning was, thanks to a lack of interaction between Daine and Numair, she didn't say anything. She didn't comment when Daine's wolf form left the small pile of clothing with Alanna, and she kept her mouth shut when Numair didn't say a word. Not one of the three seemed to be fond of mornings, and even Song's natural enthusiasm was dimmed by Daine's mood. As for Cloud, her pony was satisfying herself with increasingly irritable glares in Numair's direction when he fled to a nearby stream. Those glares drew Alanna's attention when they stopped for a midday break.

"And what has you in a bother?" Alanna asked the pony directly. "I have the feeling that Mistress Wolf will be hunting her own lunch, with the mood that the lady is in, and if Numair won't talk to me, you'll have to be my source."

At that, Daine left the cover of the woods to rejoin the group. She had no mind to change back from being a wolf for the short break, but she could at least spend time with Alanna when Numair wasn't there. She wasn't going to be ready to talk to him for at least another few hours.

"I believe it says quite a bit about my life that this won't be the oddest luncheon I've had," Alanna said to the russet-colored wolf. "Do you prefer your jerky plain as a wolf?"

Daine nodded her agreement before settling near Cloud with several strips of dried caribou. Caribou lived farther north than Snowsdale, but her ma had developed a taste after Weiryn brought back the first. The current batch of meat came from the female god of the caribou, to be precise, a rather obliging creature that knew she would regenerate after Weiryn killed her current form. The male god of caribou was not nearly so cooperative, so Weiryn hunted him much more often.

Alanna excused herself after eating her lunch and walked in the direction of the stream. Daine thought that it was coincidence, at first, but a wolf's hearing easily could make out the words being exchanged at the brook. Her ears automatically swiveled to best catch the conversation.

"Numair, what in the Goddess have you done this time?" Alanna was keeping her voice low, but that made no difference to Daine. "She's avoiding both of us to some extent, but she's barely looked at you."

"Don't bring the Goddess into this, I can't imagine that she would approve. Daine—that is, Miss Sarrasri—kissed me. Me!"

Numair's irritation was clear from Daine's vantage point. Her ears flattened, and the smallest of growls escaped her at the implication that she wasn't good enough for the grand mage. Age had never been an issue in even Snowsdale, and Daine was quite sure that the cities were just as full of younger women marrying older men out of apprenticeships and ready to buy a home.

Alanna's voice was far more controlled, surprising for one of such a famous temper. "I imagine you didn't return the gesture, and likely stomped off without a word." Perhaps Daine had judged too soon; the temper was emerging with every word the Lioness spoke. "You are a dunderhead of the worst degree. She's just the type of woman for you, and her maturity is not even comparable to the bimbos that like to decorate your arm."

"She's seventeen!"

"As for the Goddess," Alanna continued, steel in her voice, "I will thank you to not tell _me _what she might desire. She was the one to teach me that love was a wonderful thing, even as you are a warrior or a mage or a midwife's daughter. Jon and Liam and George all helped me along the way, but the Goddess set me on that path."

For a long time, the only sound was the rushing water of the brook.

"She deserves more." Numair's voice was a whisper, so quiet that Daine could hardly hear him. "More than a worn-out mage that couldn't even keep it together with Varice, and Varice Kingsford was the most understanding woman a flutterbrain could hope to know."

"But not the most mature," Alanna challenged instantly. "Varice never called you on those bad habits you disguise as quirks, as Mistress Sarrasri will." From the scuffles forward across the gravel, Daine guessed that Alanna had moved forward to hug him. "She'll make you happy, if you let her. So let her."

"Or you'll nag at me the rest of my life," Numair said with his usual good humor. "I will try, or attempt to try. If she'll let me."

After another scuffle on the gravel and a thoughtful pause, Alanna's voice came through a bit louder. "I also imagine that a wolf would hear every word we just said, as I last saw her in the camp."

Daine's ear flicked. She didn't abandon her place next to Cloud as the pair walked back to camp. It wasn't her fault that they had forgotten Daine's hearing, especially with Daine's clothing neatly packed into Alanna's saddlebag.

"Well then," Alanna said. "Let's head out and talk later, shall we? This is a conversation we should have when all involved parties can chat."

Daine ran ahead of the pair to buy herself time to think. Emotions were less raw in wolf form; she knew that she still liked him, but she didn't want someone who would view her as too young. She would not tolerate babying or too much protection.

Even during the spate of intense thinking, however, Daine caught the scent of a man a quarter mile upwind. He was a large man, definitely, one wearing leather over sweaty linen. She ran back to the two mages and was not surprised when Alanna handed Daine her clothes without any pantomime. Daine had never changed so quickly.

"There's a man," she said. "He's not moving, and he's been there some time. A big man in leather."

Alanna's smile was grim. Her eyes were lit with the thrill of the hunt. "Is he now," was all Alanna said.

Numair sighed expansively. "How far ahead is he, Daine?"

"No more'n half a mile." Daine's eyes sharpened to a falcon's clarity. "Around that bend ahead."

"An ambush, then," Alanna said cheerfully. "An averted ambush, that is. Magic in a physical fight is the kind of cheating even George doesn't like, but I'll use it if necessary and ambush _him _with a handy little spell that cloaks me in whatever the big man thinks he'll see."

Daine gaped at the sparkle in the Lioness's eyes. "You're fair mad," Daine said plainly. "No offense meant, lady."

"Alanna," the Lioness corrected firmly. "You're a wildmage of unmatched caliber, the least you can do is abandon any kind of title. As for the madness…" Alanna's eyes shuttered, and the woman's open expression was gone entirely. "It ran in my family, and my adoptive family and children are just as bad." Alanna discarded that mood without any further signs of the darkness. Alanna dismounted with a pat to Cloud's neck. "I'll walk the rest of the way. The pair of you will stay back. Numair, no magic unless I am on the ground or otherwise in imminent danger of dying."

"Alanna," Numair protested weakly. He knew he wouldn't win.

If Daine had thought her voice was firm before… Alanna was adamant. "I mean it, Salmalín. I'll not have you drain your life force out of you when it can come down to steel alone. Daine, you're riding again, I believe. I'm walking to loosen up my muscles."

"Yes'm," Daine agreed, hopping into Cloud's saddle. Above them, Song was silent to most ears. "Song says he's got a great… axe? She says it looks like what folk use to cut trees down."

"I've faced men with battleaxes before. Does he have a sword?"

Daine conferred with Song again. "No more'n the axe from what she sees."

"Bless that falcon, that's some guesswork gone," Alanna said with a smile. "I'm going ahead now, the pair of you amble on over until you're just in sight. I'll not have him throw an axe into one of you then choose to wrestle. Wrestling and whistling remain among by weaknesses."

The Lioness was definitely mad, but she knew her business. She vanished in front of Daine's eyes, and she could only see hazy flashes when she squinted her eyes and focused hard enough to draw the start of a headache.

Ahead of them, Daine heard a yell just two minutes later, then the distinct sound of Alanna's laughter carrying on the wind as steel clashed against steel. Alanna had been armed only with a light sword, but Numair didn't look worried.

"That sword is magicked," he said, nodding into the wind. The stiff breeze carried every sound and scent Daine's way. "It won't break, it won't shatter, and it won't be turned against its owner. She learned a little from her onetime enemy, in giving the sword something like a mind of its own."

"Can it think?" Daine asked.

"I don't think it's sentient, but I do know it prefers admiration to derision. That seems to be Alanna's reaction more than any inherent property within the sword." Numair was lost in scholar-talk, again, and Daine was surprised to find that she had missed it. Now that she understood four words in ten, it was rather flattering to know that she could guess the meanings of the rest of the words in his babbling.

The conversation ceased when the battle came into view, and Daine couldn't help her quiet exclamation. "Oh, glory," she whispered. The Lioness was fighting valiantly, but her compact frame was smaller than Daine by nearly a head. Alanna's opponent stood seven feet if he stood an inch, and he kept swinging the sword perilously close to his red-headed enemy.

After a full minute, Daine relaxed slightly into the saddle. The big man was tiring, by the posture of his shoulders, and Alanna looked fresher than daisies as she danced around the great swings and peppered the man with shallow cuts that drove the man further and further into rage. His blows would have been stronger, had he landed a hit, but his aim was poorer.

"Stenmun Fodeben, otherwise called Stenmun Kinslayers," Numair pronounced quietly, his eyes steadily on the fight. "He's known for his speed and strength, as well as his size, but I think Alanna expected him. His battleaxe is nearly as well-known as he is for the slaughter of half his clan.

"His allegiance is to Maggur Rathhausak, but he guards Blayce the Gallan." The mage looked apologetic for Blayce's title, but Daine shook her head. She wouldn't quibble that the horror of a man was from her nation. "I think that Inar passed a message onto Rathhausak and Blayce before his death. We must be close for the pair of them to risk Stenmun."

Daine had never seen two people fighting, really. She'd seen several of the Snowsdale men wrestle each other or play at a fight with staffs, but none of that had ever been like seeing the Lioness and Stenmun move so quickly that Daine's human eyes were hard-pressed to track the details of the movements. A golden eagle's eyes were far better. Those eyes let her see when Stenmun's foot slid just a few inches, leaving his arm just a little too far forward. Alanna's sword darted to the inside of the big man's arm, laying the soft flesh of the inner arm open to the bone and bleeding heavily.

Stenmun managed to keep his two-handed axe in his left arm, but the right arm was dangling at his side. He lost reason entirely, then, and swung wildly at the Lioness with no kind of pattern to the blows. Daine cringed at the beserk strength behind that axe, but the Lioness calmly ducked beneath a high swing to sweep her leg behind his, toppling him backward. He had barely been on the ground for two seconds before the Lioness's blade had slit his throat. Seconds later, one of Scanra's most feared warriors was dead, and Alanna was calmly cleaning her blade on a rag that she had tucked into her belt.

Close your mouth, Cloud told her rider. You'll catch gnats.

"There's a reason she's famous," Numair teased gently. "I looked much the same the first time I saw her fight. It was against her husband, as it happens, and you'll never see two such inveterate cheaters."

"I suppose you'll have to be right, and both of them are curst fast besides." Daine stroked at Cloud's neck absently. "I'll stick to my bow, I think. I'm fast enough a shot."

Alanna was in remarkably good spirits when they caught up to her, and she had heard the last remark. "I'll have to see that, sometime. I've yet to meet a bad shot that carries a bow that well."

Alanna had a streak of blood on her jaw, several spatters on her shirt, and an oddly shaped splotch on her left angle. For a country girl used to slaughter season and skinning her own kills, the blood made Alanna all the more approachable. "I'm a fair shot," Daine admitted. "I learned from my grandda, and my da said that I'd little to learn from him."

The Lioness's grin was very friendly considering that it was only an inch from a dead man's blood. "Knew you were a woman after my own heart—country, dangerous, and not afraid to use your talents."

Daine might get used to talking to Tortall's Champion after all. Compliments that might have left her stuttering the day before seemed natural, and Daine nodded to acknowledge them "What're we doing with the body? Animals'll get him soon enough if he's left there."

Alanna pursed her lips, looking over the body of Stenmun Kinslayer. "I'll say a few rites for him, and pay heed to a few of his customs, but we don't have the time to bury a man his size. I won't spend that much magic and Numair better not. His employers may come looking for him."

Daine was curious about just what a Scanran funeral rite might be, but she agreed that speed was more important. Alanna was splitting paths from them, and she was doing that without a horse. Cloud had offered, and her Darkmoon had tried to insist, but Alanna was not moved.

"I need to move very quietly, not very quickly. Coram taught me quite well in matters of tracking. Myles risked four separate agents to get me a focus on Maggur Rathhausak. I'll be using at least half my magic to find the gods-curst nuisance, and then I plan to kill him." Alanna absently wiped the blood from her face, only to leave it on her sleeve. "Quite the glamorous life, a Champion's."

Daine laughed at the Lioness's rueful expression. Alanna was just the type to welcome good humor. "The stories do make adventures sound like grand times all around, not several nights of camping and latrine trenches and hunting food to every afternoon of a big happening."

"You're going to be a story in your own right, Mistress Daine." Alanna's delivery of the words was light, but the words themselves were entirely serious. "If you should find yourself in Tortall, look me up—look me down, rather. The shortest redhead in the room is generally me or one of my brood."

From Daine's seat on the back of a pony, the warrior looked very small to be heading off alone, but there was a glint in Alanna's eye as she extracted a light pack from Darkmoon's left saddlebag.

"Look after Numair for me. He's to eat his vegetables, should you find any, and _not _to use his Gift unless it's entirely necessary." Alanna saluted each of them in turn as they both stared. "Have fun, darlings, I've got regicide on the mind. Honorable warfare is for people that fought honorably, and Rathhausak started dishonorable dealings when he held Thayet hostage." When the grey tomcat followed her footsteps, Alanna nodded to him as well, and made no effort to shoo him back to Daine.

Daine recovered enough from her surprise to wish the Lioness good hunting, but Numair only looked after his friend with an odd expression. Daine guessed it was between a mix between fear for her safety, pride in Alanna, and the realization that he had been left with the girl he'd turned down.

"So," Daine began, gratified when she had his attention without dramatics. "We're still following this trail to Blayce's keep while Alanna goes haring off through the woods?"

Numair looked all too relieved when he realized what subject she wasn't going to address. "Indeed. It's Rathhausak's castle. He gave it to Blayce when he rose to power, as well as his people. George's spies say that there are no children in that village."

Daine shuddered at the memories. It was good to be riding Cloud through this place, and better still when she heard Song high above them. Song had many good things to say of Alanna's viciousness in the fight, and Song also recognized the stream ahead of them.

"We're getting close. Song says that last time she saw that stream, we were just one day out from the stonehouse—the castle, that is. Cloud it's a much faster trip with horses and with us not being exhausted." Daine remained glad that Stenmun had been far too distracted with Alanna to notice a Gallan girl just at the edge of his vision. Blayce would be bad enough."

Numair looked up to the sinking sun. "We've two hours before nightfall, and have the advantage of surprise."

"We've the advantage so long as Blayce don't know that Stenmun's dead," Daine agreed. That was all either of them said until the castle was just over the next hill, and the sun would only be over the horizon for another half of an hour.

Daine reached out with her magic very carefully, taking care to leave the rats out of it entirely. She couldn't help her blinding smile when she found a familiar animal. "Berry!" she said with her magic and with her voice. "I'm coming back. Will you tell the others for me?"

The little mouse was very far away, but she could still hear the pride in his voice when he announced that he would have his children help. Nearly two years had passed, and his very large brood would be thrilled to help the god's-daughter. The others would help too, he supposed, but Berry was sure that his children would be the most help.

Daine couldn't do anything but agree in the face of such determination. "And the rats?"

You'll not be trapped this time, the mouse declared with unshakable confidence. None of us will let you.

Thank you, Berry, Daine said through her magic. We're coming tonight.

The mage isn't asleep. He almost never sleeps, Berry reported. He's still in the tall-room.

"Are there any children with him?"

Berry hesitated before he answered. Not living. Two bodies.

Daine couldn't see her expression, and didn't notice Numair's surprised reaction to the wildfire magic flaring around her in a halo only he could see. "We're going in tonight," she said clearly to Numair and to every last animal within her range. Even the rats. "Stay out of the lit-up room in the tower for now, but follow me or wait for me if you'll take my side."

Daine felt a multitude of different voices call agreement, and might have staggered at the shock if Song hadn't spun down to land lightly on her shoulder and let loose with a falcon's scream. That sound grounded her, and let her forget the feeling of hundreds of animals all at once.

Daine looked quite a bit like Alanna the Lioness with the light of battle in her eyes and the sunset casting rose light over her silhouette. There was no trace of a child in the woman that grimly strung her bow and checked over her quiver, and even Numair Salmalín saw the warrior where a teenager had been just seconds before.


	9. Skyfall

_Trust Daine, folks. _

**From Scanra With Love  
>Chapter Nine: Skyfall <strong>

A small village sat at the base of the path that led to Blayce's castle, once Rathhausak's palace. Numair might have avoided the small grouping of buildings entirely if Daine had not walked directly down the path with her increasingly large army of animals trailing behind her. She was marching almost blindly down the center of the rough road, but he had to be very cautious as he followed her cat-quiet footsteps. His every step was in danger of harming the cats, dogs, stoats, hares, and foxes underfoot. Three separate horses had come from somewhere, all three trailing broken hitch-ropes, and a bear lumbered along behind the rest of her single-minded gathering.

Above them, bats and owls flew in tight circles, the usual bat caution toward owls entirely forgotten in light of a mutual danger. Daine scarcely seemed to notice the whispered clamor of excitement around her as the animals made quiet sounds.

The village was eerily silent as they passed through. Four rangy dogs quietly left their homes to follow in Daine's wake, joined by one emaciated cat and a scattering of mice. None of the villagers were awake to his limited senses, though he thought he could feel curious gazes following their unusual parade.

Closer to the castle, scores of mice were clamoring between the rest of the gathering, and a lone rat stood in the center of the path.

Daine's eyes narrowed, and Numair thought of a small spell that wouldn't sap him too badly. Before either of them could react, an old woman shimmered into existence just behind the animal.

The hunch-backed crone only had eyes for Daine. "Now, now, dearie," the old woman tutted. "You think you're quite the special lady, but give your elder her due."

Daine inclined her head stiffly, and her fists unclenched at her sides. "Have you come to offer your assistance, Great Lady?" Daine's voice sounded polite, but Numair could hear the forced quality of the words.

"Now there's a lass," the crone said approvingly. "For today, my brethren will listen to you, though I'd not try their patience. My amnesty extends to your animal friends as well, so there'll be none of those mice eaten today by my rats. Pity about the sad lack of hyenas, but perhaps you'll meet those beasties another time."

"I don't know a polite form of address, lady, but thank you." Those words were far more true to Daine's usual graciousness. "I promise that I'll do my best to see Blayce killed, no matter what or who stands in my way."

"Don't delay," the goddess warned. "Sure as my dice roll crooked, you'll fail if you do not look straight on to your task. Necromancy is a trickster's work, for only a fool would think to deprive the Black God."

The old woman vanished without leaving time for a reply.

Daine turned her head to the rat on the path. "Well met," she said quietly. "Will you coordinate the rats, please?"

Numair couldn't hear the rat's reply, but Daine seemed to be satisfied. "Thank you," she replied. "You'll be my scouts, then, and the mice will help you in the few places that you prefer not to reach. Berry, their leader for tonight, has already agreed."

Daine turned, finally seeing the extent of her following. "Glory," she whispered. "Well, here we go."

Numair heard nothing of her grand speech, but he could read the content in every sweeping gesture of her arms. She was calling them to battle, but not the battle he had expected. The cats and dogs raced into the palace first, then the bear and the horses took up positions at the rear with owls perched around them.. The bats hung from every available space on the palace.

The stoats and hares split away from each other, and seemed to coat the ground at strategic intervals of their own choosing. Last were the foxes, which ran into the palace in a path that the dogs and cats had taken.

Daine didn't look so much as winded when she looked to him. "You're with me. The cats and dogs are minding the children, and the rest that aren't rats and aren't mice are keeping watch." She stroked Cloud's muzzle. "Miss Cloud here will be watching over the outside, and they'll mind her as they would me—you too, Song."

Daine transferred her balking falcon to the saddle on Cloud's back. "I mean it. You can't fly well inside or in the dark, and I want your eyes out here."

Song subsided with a sulky peep.

"Well—that's all but Berry." Daine bent to scoop a plain grey mouse into her hand. She held the mouse out to him gravely, and he offered a finger hesitantly. When the mouse's whiskers twitched over the closest knuckle, Numair had the distinct feeling that the little animal approved of him.

Daine slid the mouse into the rough pocket sewn into the front of her shirt. From the dimensions of the pocket, it had been designed for Daine to carry about small animals. Sarra knew her business.

"Up to the tower, then?" Numair asked. He wished that he had brought any kind of weapon with him. Without his magic, he was sure he would be a hindrance to her.

"To the tower," Daine agreed, checking the strong on her bow and adjusting her quiver of arrows. "Blayce'll be up there with just two little bodies for now, and he's not like to come take another child this night." She paused as she scanned the large entrance hall, then ducked into a side room. She emerged with a six-foot staff. "I don't suppose that the Lioness showed you how to be of use with this?"

Numair accepted the staff with a grim nod, sensing that it wasn't the time for a smile. Daine's mind was already far above them, even as her body remained vigilant of her surroundings and of the rat trailing at her feet. The rat was what prompted him to ask. Daine looked fine even with the rat following docile as a lamb, but he had seen the horror in her eyes when she had told him the story.

"Who was your friend, Daine?"

"I'm most to certain she's the Graveyard Hag." Daine glanced back at the rat, and the two of them had some silent talk that dissolved the last remnant of tension between them. "I'd like to see a hyena sometime. My da's told me of them."

Numair had hoped that wasn't the case, but he was clever enough to keep such dangerous thoughts to himself. Ozorne had never asked Arram to come with him on frequent missions to the city's temple district, but from Ozorne's sudden interest in hyenas and rats, Arram had known what his then-friend had been doing. The now-emperor had been clever enough to court the favor of Carthak's native goddess, and even the Hag had fallen prey to the emperor mage's promises and charms.

Ozorne had broken every last one of those promises, of course. It was in his way to think only of himself in the long term, and one of many reasons Numair had told Jon to avoid any kind of peaceful delegation with Ozorne. The emperor was more likely to create a pretense for a war or bring his empire crashing down around him than he was to make any lasting peace.

They had only climbed ten stairs when Numair noticed their rat companion's difficulty. He cleared his throat, unsure about how to begin a conversation with a rat, and was surprised that the rat turned a quizzical eye to him almost instantly. "Would you like a lift?" he asked politely. "Carrying you seems undignified, but I can offer my shoulder."

In answer, the rat leapt at Numair's ankle. Before he had time to do more than flinch, the athletic animal scampered up the rough cloth of his trousers and up the tight weave of his shirt to settle on Numair's right shoulder. By the expression on the rodent's face, Numair was being laughed at for startling.

Daine at least hadn't witnessed his embarrassment at the paws of a rat, but she was twelve steps above him before he hastened to close the distance. It was none too soon, as Daine snatched an arrow to her bow with a quiet curse just as he climbed high enough to see around the curving stair.

The thing was monstrous. It looked much like one of the mantids that Lindhall Reed had prized nearly as much as his birds, but this mantid was not a small insect with slashing forelimbs. This was a hound-sized mess of gears and clockwork assembled into the rough shape of a mantis, with two curved blades for its 'hands' and a vicious beak made from opposable knives. The thing's head had a smooth, glossy black globe attached on either side of that beak, and whatever force animated it left those globes oily with unnatural magic.

Numair Salmalín knew necromancy when he saw it. He had only read accounts of it before, for all that he was Jon's primary agent in rooting out the bad and that he had been Ozorne's closest friend, but the taint was unmistakable. The edges of those dark eyes seemed to blur before his eyes, a contrast to how fast the thing was when it lunged forward and swung those razor-sharp blades at his legs.

Only years of training with both Alanna and George got Numair's staff into the right place at the right time, leaving the hardwood staff to absorb a vicious blow instead of his legs. Daine yelped, losing her all-business mien for the first time since back in the woods, but she only had an arrow, and he only had a staff.

"The eyes!" he whispered urgently as the praying mantis-like thing tried to remove its blades from Numair's staff.

Scarcely before Numair could finish speaking, an arrow zipped through the leftmost eye, and before he could compliment the fast work or study the shattered black glass, the right eye was broken.

An ephemeral white mist emerged as the mantis collapsed. It took the semblance of a small child for a moment; he felt more than heard a lonely cry of 'mama?' before the spirit vanished.

"Gods above, that's what he was making!" Daine prodded at the collapsed metal husk with the butt of her bow. "Let's keep on before he finds that we knew this'un. I'll kill him fast afore he has time to go makin' more. The cats've found all the kids and the dogs're guarding them. We have a clean dozen to move out when I'm done making a body."

Numair somehow forgot how brutally practical country women could be, and suspected that he might eventually regret being part of the reason that Daine, Thayet, and Alanna would all be friendly enough to collaborate against him. Daine might plan to go join her parents, but now that she'd had a taste for adventure, he suspected that she would be a Tortallan citizen for as long as they could keep her. Tortall had a way of drawing in people that hadn't planned to stay.

"I fully concur with your plan, magelet." The endearment slipped out before he could realize what he was saying, but she didn't protest. "I shall endeavor to stay in the back and not muddy the waters." He should be able to manage that much.

They encountered a second machine-animal on the stairs, a perversion of a great snake that slithered down stairs as easily as it would slide across a field. Daine shot only one of its beady black eyes before the spirit flowed out of the top of the fallen metal beast.

She stooped to collect her arrow, just as she had done with the previous two. All three arrows were damaged, but Daine seemed quite sure that the arrows wouldn't be a problem. She didn't change a feather of the fletching to mark them as previously shot. "Never a need to waste an arrow," she explained in a murmur, studying the third arrow briefly.

"Practical to the very core," Numair replied at the same volume. He was rewarded by a flash of a smile. "Shall we, Mistress Sarrasri?"

"But of course, Master Salmalín," she teased with an elaborate curtsy. It looked particularly impressive with her dressed in breeches. "Ladies first, then, as I've the ranged weapon."

It left him with quite the view, but that was entirely beside the point. Worse, the rat on his shoulder knew it, because he was quite sure that the brown creature had been mocking him for the entire way up the staircase. Next time, he would let the blasted creature struggle.

There were no further devices in their way, and all too quickly, they reached the door of the workroom. Without further ado, and with no subtlety, Daine kicked the door open and aimed her bow into the workroom.

"Stenmun!"

The mage looked like nothing. He was smaller than Daine, with colorless hair and the uncertain skin tone of one who never ventured beyond the reach of a rooftop. He had been fiddling with a machine the size of a young horse, and bad luck had it that the large machine obstructed Daine's shot at the mage for just long enough. The man split into two dozen identical mages with the snap of his fingers, and every one of them was staring at Daine.

"You're not Stenmun," every one of his copies said.

"Hello, Blayce," Daine said calmly. Everything in her voice and posture spoke of strength Numair would not have expected in any seventeen-year-old, even after knowing Daine for nearly a month. "I don't know which one of you's you, but I know that whichever it is, I mean to be your death today. For all you've killed and all you've hurt, and for the two little'uns you done in today, I'll end you as I live."

"Brave words, little girl," the Blayce closest to her said. "You care to repeat them without your protector? They might have more effect that way."

"I'd care to do without a score or so of your copies, Blayce, but this is the way it'll be." Daine didn't turn her head when Numair's latest companion leapt down from his shoulder, and Blayce gave no notice to the rat skulking about the floor and sniffing at the various copies of the mage. From the irritable gait of the animal, the rat was having no luck in finding the true Blayce.

"Of course… you could have done with a bit of rest, hm," the Gallan mage said. The words seemed to directly enter Numair's ear, though Daine turned the smallest fraction back toward him. "What a foolish mage, coming to my very domain with naught but the dregs."

"He'll just need to whack you with his staff," Daine retorted. "Shouldn't be so hard, as you're like to talk until I'm tempted to hit myself." She was slowly scanning through the copies, so Numair did the same.

The spell had to be Blayce's signature working, apart from the machine-animals. It had been set in place instantly and effortlessly—both signs of a favorite spell, and not all of the copies were exact. Some Blayces were scuffling their feet, others were shifting their weight, and one in the back was toying with some small, reflective object that glimmered with a light that left Numair feeling uneasy.

He peered closer, all the better to warn Daine, but all too late felt the dulling of his mind and the heaviness of his limbs. The object had been nothing more than a Tortallan copper noble, and the odd light had been a touch of Blayce's magic. Numair had fallen for a trick that a ten-year-old mage would suspect, letting his opponent catch him with a shining light and a hidden mental battle that had been won through distraction.

He only hoped that he wouldn't—no, of course he would. His feet were slowly turning him to face Daine, and his hands took up their usual places on the staff. Blayce was going to try using him to hurt Daine, and Numair's only hope was that Daine was cold-bloodedly practical enough to realize that Blayce was more important than any foolish Tortallan mage.

Daine's half-absent attention sharpened when his staff made a clumsy hit aimed at her back that did nothing more than knock her hair from its loose knot. She readily spun away, and her glare was welcome. She didn't expect a betrayal even then. She expected stupidity, but she didn't even think that he had turned against her, even when his hands pulled into another blow. She took the arrow from the string of her bow.

Numair might have been a little hasty, however, because Daine's free hand lashed out to wrench the staff away from him before delivering a hasty (and hard) blow to the side of his knee. He couldn't protest the rough treatment with his body still under control of a necromantic murderer, and Blayce let Numair's body fall forward to its knees. Blayce had given up on physical combat, at least, but that meant that he was stirring the magic within Numair's very blood to bring a spell against Daine. There was no way to break free from someone else's working in his magic that wasn't close to fatal, but it didn't appear that he had time to contest his method of death. Her eyes glinted with the reflected light of the spell pooling in his hands.

Daine had slowly brought her arrow back up to her bow, looking Numair dead in the eyes. "I'm sorry, Numair," she said distinctly, just as she aimed her arrow at his heart. "You'll just have to trust that I'll finish up after this."


	10. The Man With The Copper Coin

_The story's nearly over; there's only one chapter after this, and its name will give away just what Daine will decide about staying in the mortal realms or heading off to stay with her parents. _

**From Scanra With Love  
>Chapter Ten: The Man With The Copper Coin <strong>

Daine knew that there was something wrong with Numair, but Berry was the one that knew just what was wrong with her mage. The mouse had seen Blayce use a coin to charm the children that wouldn't stop crying, or to keep children quiet and in one place while he set things in place. Berry hadn't seen it often, but every time that a child had gone empty-eyed, Blayce had been spinning the same red-gold (copper, Daine told him) coin around and around in his hands.

One of Blayce's copies had turned Numair's bright eyes dull. Before Daine could point her arrow at the copy working magic, she felt a staff brush her hair, and had to spin before Numair's staff could land a truly distracting hit. That meant taking her arrow off the string and wrestling the staff out of his lax hands. She felt very cruel, hitting the side of his knee when he couldn't fight, but she needed him to stay still and Blayce to stay distracted.

Numair had accidentally done her a favor in knocking her hair down. Berry crawled up out of her pocket to peer through her hair, and as Daine faced away from the duplicates of the necromancer, the number of Blayces was steadily shrinking. When magic started to pool in her friend's hands, it was time to act. She turned to face him with her composure as steady as he could make it.

"I'm sorry, Numair." She really shouldn't be aiming her bow at friends she didn't want to shoot, let alone at the space that would let an arrow slide into his heart if she loosed the arrow. "You'll just have to trust that I'll finish up after this." She needed the act, still, because she couldn't afford to shoot at the wrong necromancer.

The daft mage wasn't fighting her at all, and the false red-tinted spell in his hands was fading away. Berry let her know that only four Blayce-copies were left, and one of them was still holding a coin in his hands. Daine used the mouse's eyes for a moment, getting her bearings, before she did something needlessly risky that would have her father very upset with her later.

She spun on her heel, arrow still nocked, and shot directly through the coin-holding man's throat.

The few remaining copies flickered before they vanished, just as if someone had blown out a candle. Blayce himself wasn't quite dead instantly, but it was a fast thing. Daine checked that Numair was himself again before going over to watch Blayce the Gallan die. When the last of the light faded from his eyes, the rat settled onto his chest with a satisfied air.

Quite dead, the rat reported. You're not so soft as we thought, god's-daughter.

"Well, I'm glad that you think so," Daine said wearily. Suddenly, she felt quite exhausted. The rat had no further use for her, and she could think of no more fitting disrespect for the body than to let the rats have him.

Leave the children's bodies alone, please, Daine told the rat. I'll bury'em proper.

Blayce is ours? the rat asked.

"Blayce is yours," she confirmed before turning back to Numair. He had stumbled to his feet, but she was sure that his knee still hurt. "Mayhaps we can find an empty room here, but I'd druther camp outside with Cloud." She took a moment to thank and dismiss the legion of animals who had been helping her. The bear, several foxes, and the cats and dogs all elected to stay.

"Let's get you down the stairs, then, and without tripping over those machines," he said, looking just as tired as she felt.

Daine let Numair put his arm around her back. She did need to lean on him a little, but she didn't really need to appreciate just how nice the man smelled. She did anyway. After Alanna's talk with him, Daine was prepared to give him another try, but for the moment she was too bone-weary to do much more than stumble down the stairs and out to Cloud. Her pony would keep her safe from nightmares and monsters alike, and it helped that Numair's bedroll was closer to hers than ever. If things went right, they'd be sharing one before his propriety got in the way again.

Daine didn't wake until well past noon the next day. Numair had already made breakfast over a small, hot fire, and had been keeping it warm on a few flat rocks he must have found somewhere. They had company, but Daine ignored the elderly man until she had scarfed down the porridge left in their cookpot.

When her appetite was sated, she left the introductions to Numair. The man was the headman of the local village. Once he had seen (and decapitated) Blayce's body, he had began preparations to keep the children safe until their families could be found. Daine was at a loss at what to do next, but she wasn't lost for long. Alanna arrived that very evening in high spirits. Darkmoon was just as pleased, for all that he was in a lather, but he promised Daine that he had urged at the bit until Alanna let him run.

Daine brushed the horse down while Numair and Alanna compared notes, cooing praises to the stallion all the while and hearing Darkmoon's account of just what had happened when Alanna dealt the lethal blow to Maggur Rathhausak.

It wasn't until the next morning that Daine made her decision. She would see her ma again, but it wasn't every day she had the chance to meet the King of Tortall.

Daine had the chance to meet several Scanran nobles as well. They camped out on the outskirts of Rathhausak's castle until several frantic families arrived looking for their children, and Daine's eyes leaked to see so many families put back together before her eyes. Two children had no parents to claim them, but the kindest of the nobles adopted the peasant children without a second thought.

The long journey to Corus was a happy one, for all that Numair proved all too skilled at avoiding Daine when she had an overture or two in mind. Alanna rolled her eyes when Numair all but hid behind her, but she didn't comment about their strange little dance. She had already said her piece.

If Cría had looked grand, Corus was the epitome of a city. It made Snowsdale look like the collection of huts and houses that it was, but Daine rode tall in her saddle with the knowledge that _she _had killed Blayce, and well before the horrid machines in his sketchbooks had come to life. The dog-sized clockwork beasts had only been the beginning. He had planned the monstrous things large enough to be a threat to even squadrons of soldiers.

"Glory," Daine finally said when George joined them for the last leg of their ride to the palace. "I feel quite a bit like a yokel here."

"I felt the same, when I first came to Corus," Alanna said fondly, looking over the crowds of the market. "You get used to it surprisingly fast. You'll like the stables, anyway, and Jon will like you no matter what sort of yokel you are. You found Thayet."

"Aye, and he'll mean to court you a bit to stayin'." George looked at ease in the grand rush of crowds, and Daine noticed that several of the more shady-looking folk nodded to him almost reverently as they passed. It seemed that several of those thieves and conmen knew all about who the King of Thieves had been. "Jon has an eye for powerful mages with talents of use to any clever king."

"Life is fair strange. I think six weeks ago I'd've been in a tizzy thinkin' I was to meet a king, but he sounds interesting." Not nice, precisely, from the stories she had heard, but she supposed a king didn't have much occasion to be _nice. _"I s'pose he'd like to know just who I properly am, and I'll not try to make it a secret to him when the rest all know. It's the kind of thing I won't tell all, though."

"Jon'll be quite disappointed when you head on with your ma," Alanna said regretfully.

Daine should be happy to think of the time that she and her ma and her da could all finally be a family, but she didn't know what to think of forever. What all was there for a god to do? Her ma would stay on as a midwife that hardly ever lost mother or baby, but Daine would be with the animals and have little occasion to have people following on her. She'd have even less occasion to go walking around at Beltane looking for a man, and she knew there was a shortage of single male gods. There definitely weren't dark-eyed mages that gave her certain ideas about seduction and more than that.

Numair, who hadn't been talkative to start on the last part of their journey, said nothing else all the way to the palace, and went to his rooms without so much as 'goodbye.'

"Well he's in a pet," Daine grumbled as she 'freshened up' with Alanna. "I wish he'd make up his mind. First he's all of horror that I kissed 'im, and then he's sudden in a sulk that I might be going home soon."

"Might?" Alanna prompted.

"I don't know half of what I'd do with myself, just hanging on my parents all the time. There's so much to do outside of Snowsdale." Daine brushed the sleeve of her best dress absently. It was far less grand than the light gown Alanna had donned, but it was well enough for Daine to meet a king. She wouldn't meet him in borrowed finery. "Besides, it might take more'n six weeks more to have my chance with Salmalín."

"He's struggling." Alanna fiddled with the clasp of her necklace. "You're not at all his usual type, and he knows it. He likes vapid blondes with no expectations beyond a few trinkets and a few weeks of bedding, generally, but I'm of the opinion it's because he's been on the run for so long. When we deal with Ozorne, he'll be much more of a mind to settle down."

Daine reached over to do the clasp of the necklace, and returned the Lioness's smile. "I've always had a trouble with doing things behind my back," Daine said. "When I was little, my ma had me in dresses that buttoned right up the back."

"You do look lovely in a dress and in breeches, always a good trait in a woman. Some men, too, but that's neither here nor there," Alanna said absently, slipping earbobs that matched her necklace into place. "There. We both look lovely, and it's nice to have that confidence when you meet up with a king. I was shy enough the first time I met Jon, and he knows how to turn on enough charm to catch people off their guard."

They passed several folk in the hall that all knew Alanna, including a stocky man that dropped a sheaf of papers to the ground to hug her. "Bless you, Alanna, Rathhausak was about to drive me to drinking," he said emphatically. "And would this be our necromancer-slayer?"

"Indeed," Alanna said. "Daine, this is Sir Gareth of Naxen, the Prime Minister. Gary, Veralidaine Sarrasri, a mage of some renown and a fantastic archer."

The prime minister shook her hand enthusiastically. "Our Lioness doesn't give compliments lightly, Mistress Sarrasri, and you'll do just fine. His majesty will probably want to give you eighteen titles and his horse besides. You rid the world of a monster and got our queen back besides."

At that, Daine blushed. "I had a push of my own to get the matter done, Sir Gareth. I'm Gallan myself and don't want the world thinkin' that's what Galla's about." She would tell the king about the gods' desires, but not everyone needed to know.

"Gods bless you, then," Gary said with feeling. "I'll let you get onto the main event, however." He scooped up his papers from the ground. "Good to meet you."

"Likewise," Daine managed before he hurried off. She exhaled when he turned a corner, turning to Alanna. "Goddess help me, I'm not used to being popular yet," Daine said. "I get the feeling that her majesty is popular, though, so I'll do my best."

"That's the spirit." Alanna clapped her on the back and smoothed a stray curl. "Let's get on with it while you still have your nerve."

No one else stopped them on the way to the king's office, but the servants bowed to her of all people, and even the stiffest of the nobles inclined their heads to her even before giving Alanna the same treatment. Daine had the uncomfortable feeling that she was already a legend. She'd wished for that, once, when she was a lonely teenager, but that lingering emptiness had vanished with her da's arrival. She had finally known who and what she was. Now, she felt a little too unsure of herself to be some kind of grand heroine.

Daine drew herself up before she entered the king's office, but it felt of little use when her personal space was promptly crowded by a pretty black-haired girl who threw her arms around Daine and squeezed.

"Kally!" Thayet chided without any heat. "Please let our guest have a seat."

At that, Daine noticed the crown on the girl's head, but she had no room to do anything but nod politely to Tortall's eldest princess. Behind Kalasin-called-Kally, she could see a quiet-eyed boy studying her intently, with a crown resting on his black hair.

Kally skipped back without a trace of repentance. "Mama says you're a wildmage. If you can talk to animals, you should talk to my friend's gelding. He's impossible, but she refuses to take another horse because then Peachblossom would be taken away."

"I'll have a listen," Daine promised. When Kally took a seat with a prim shaking of her elaborate skirts, Daine saw the king for the first time.

King Jonathan's hair was just as black as his children's, and his eyes were bluer than anything she'd come across. He wore his power like it was a tangible thing. She might have been intimidating for that alone if he wasn't looking at her like she was the most wonderful person in the world. Daine curtsied on reflex as he rose from his chair, and blushed again when he bowed to _her _like she was some kind of grand duchess or even a princess.

"Veralidane Sarrasri, your majesty," Numair said quietly. Daine hadn't realized that he was standing in the corner behind the desk, looking over the room.

The office was quite crowded. Beside the prince and princess in their seats near the wall, and the king and queen behind the desk, Numair stood in the corner and there were two more chairs for Alanna and Daine.

When everyone was settled, Thayet was the one who began. "I realize that you may not stay for long, Daine, but you are welcome in Tortall whenever you choose to visit. We also would like to offer you a title as the least of our thanks."

After weeks of riding with Alanna and Numair, Daine had expected at least that much, and Alanna had promised there was no harm in accepting. "Alright by me," Daine replied to the surprise of Numair and the queen. Only Alanna had known that Daine planned to accept. "Numair said it'll let me have a little more room in moving about, and it seems I have a few things to get done." She was looking right on at the king. "I'm a god's daughter, sir, and I've the feeling that I'm meant to do more yet. I have the offer to be a goddess proper come Beltane."

The princess gasped, and Daine belatedly realized that perhaps a twelve-year-old was a bit young to hear such things. Luckily, Kalasin's response was confined to the gasp and to the widened eyes. Roald was not so reserved.

His quiet voice was impeccably polite. "What will you be the goddess of, if I may ask?"

"Not quite sure," Daine admitted. "Some sort of thing with animals, maybe moving in a bit on what my da does—he's Weiryn, god of the hunt. He thinks I could the guardian of animals in his place, he'd druther stick with the hunting."

The king looked as if people announced their divinity every day. "We're certainly in your debt, Mistress Sarrasri, and we would be honored to have one of your first temples built down the way should that come to pass. For now, however, let's talk details of the small village in need of a protector."

After a dizzying amount of paperwork and discussions about exactly what they meant by 'her' people, Daine was the lady of a small tract of land adjacent to Alanna's Pirate's Swoop. The old manor had fallen into disrepair, and no new noble had been interested in such an expensive proposition as a starting point, let alone land that would be bordered by the Lioness and the potential for invasion by outside forces. The land was old enough that she'd need to name it, but before that, she'd get to build the manor back up. Jon insisted that she accept an immensely generous sum of money. He was very grave in calling it a necromancer's bounty as well as a queen's ransom, and Daine couldn't refuse after seeing the way that Jon looked at Thayet. It was like he was expecting for her to vanish if she stepped at all out of his sight, or perhaps as if she'd disappear right before his eyes.

Numair was quiet yet again during the process of making Daine a lady, but Alanna made up for it. Prince Roald and Princess Kalasin thanked her sincerely for helping find their mother before they left for lessons. Both the prince and the princess had afternoon lessons in book-learning to attend for their work in page training, but the princess extracted a promise before she left. After dinner, Daine would meet Kalasin and her friend in the stables to have a word with a certain strawberry gelding.

Never one to delay work, Daine changed back to her rough breeches and homespun tunic after the meeting with the king was done. She headed into the nicest stables she'd ever seen, just as light and airy as any horse could desire. She said hello to most every animal in the main building before coming across the gelding in question. Even without knowing his name, she could have found him in an instant for the surly demeanor and suspicious nature.

"Hello, hoof-brother," Daine said kindly. "Let's talk about why you're giving Keladry of Mindelan such trouble, shall we?"

As it happened, the page continued to use the typical spurs, which Peachblossom didn't appreciate. After dinner, Daine quickly brokered an agreement between Page Kel and her mount, and had instant followers in both Keladry and Kalasin. Word about her presence had spread, it seemed, because they were rapidly joined by Nealan of Queenscove and several other squires. All of them asked for similar conversations with their horses, and before Daine knew it she had been asked to assist with all of the pages' horsework for the next few days.

Daine was in her element in the novel experience of having entire groups of adolescents hanging on her every word. There were exceptions, of course, such as Joren of Stone Mountain, but Daine took pity on his horse and gave the animal several hints on how to compensate for Joren's heavy hand on the reins.

Her formal introduction to court made her dizzy with nerves at first, but it went very well. Numair was her escort that night, and for once he didn't vanish when she hinted that he could escort her any time that he wanted. He even agreed to accompany her to the next of the great balls, one welcoming the first delegation of Yamani nobles that were much more likely to offer an alliance thanks to Daine and Alanna's efforts.

Berrywood, as she eventually called her estate after consultation with the villagers, was coming along nicely. The villagers were hard-working and actually appreciated having a liege lord, or liege lady as the case may be. She would give them a voice in the capital, and she had made herself popular applying Numair's lessons in healing animals through her magic. Daine had a mind to leave Berrywood to Numair. He cared for people far more than he liked to admit and shouldn't be living by himself in a tower. He needed more interaction than that even if he hadn't yet accepted her hinted offers or her sly insinuations that they'd have a good time together.

Before Daine knew just how long she had been living on Tortall's hospitality, Beltane was only one day away, and the king was throwing one last ball. That ball was unofficially in her honor—unofficially because Daine still wasn't sure just what she was going to do. She loved Tortall, but she didn't know if she could love the country more than she loved her parents and the chances waiting for her in the realms of the gods.


	11. The Spy Who Loved Me

_This is it, everybody. Thank you so much for the encouragement and the commentary. The green amethysts (also called prasiolite) that Daine wears are in honor of my amazing fiancé and my brand-new-as-of-today engagement ring._

**From Scanra With Love  
>Chapter Eleven: The Spy Who Loved Me<strong>

Daine needed to decide between the realm of the gods and the mortal realm, and somehow her decision all depended on someone else. She had friends in Alanna and Thayet and Cloud alike, besides the dozens of other folk from Tortall that she had met, but she wanted something more with Numair. She wanted to know that he wouldn't reject every last advance and attempt she made and she would only have one night to ask him for an answer. Beltane was the next day. She needed to decide just which place would be her home.

Eardrops dangled from her newly pierced ears. She hadn't asked just how much the faintly green stones cost, just as she hadn't asked the price of the winking light green stones that sparkled at her throat and wrists. Daine had thought they were an odd contrast to her dark silver gown until she saw the way that the touch of green brought an entirely different depth to the grey silk bodice and the rustling silk layer that draped over several light-as-a-cloud petticoats.

Beneath the grand dress and the green amethyst-anointed comb in her hair, Daine was wearing her leather boots that had taken her from Snowsdale to Tortall's capital. She had expected Thayet to be upset when Daine insisted on not wearing the matching slippers that pinched at her feet, but the queen had kissed Daine's cheek and called her a woman after her own heart.

As the ball was in her honor, Daine had been given the opportunity of inviting anyone she had liked. She chose the pages and squires in place of the typical lords and ladies. Daine was told that it would curry no favor with the nobles, but Thayet had laughed in the Master of Ceremonies' face. "Not _these _nobles," the queen had corrected. "My dear Master Oakbridge, you'll win the battle to lose the war. Imagine an entire generation of nobles with good feelings for Lady Daine!"

After that, Master Oakbridge had been very deferential in allowing Daine to help with the preparations for what might be her only ball.

Numair had managed to vanish with startling regularity when Daine tried to confront him with emotions or logistics or even the weather. Alanna continually offered to fetch him back, but Daine let it be. Numair had promised her that he would be at the ball. She did know it would be too much to expect him to walk her in, so she wasn't surprised when George Cooper was her escort for the night.

The expansive dinner tasted like nothing when she sat with the king and queen, as the guest of honor, and Numair sat with Alanna and George. She made it through the meal thanks to Prince Roald's quiet, steady conversation that frequently featured stories about Numair that Daine had never heard before. After dinner, George shoved Numair at Page Keladry. Roald handed Daine off to Page Nealan, who gamely whirled Daine around the floor even when she stepped on his toes in her solid leather boots. Daine grinned at her partner as she handed him over to Alanna. The Lioness could heal the damage Daine had done before it turned to bruises."

Daine had only been alone for a minute when Princess Kalasin tapped her on the shoulder.

"H'lo, Daine." The princess's lips barely moved. "Kel and I want to let you know that we know that the silly mage likes you." Kally nodded her chin toward a tall couple on the opposite side of the floor. "Cut in on Kel to get Numair back. I'll find another tall boy for her."

Daine barely had time to smile in thanks before the princess had turned to make gracious small-talk with the ambassadors that had been ten feet away.

Daine followed through on Kalasin's gambit by stalking across the floor and stealing Numair right from the page's arms. "I'll make it up to you, Kel," Daine promised as she pulled Numair away and into the dance.

Numair flushed under her purposeful regard. "I suppose I should be glad you didn't make Cloud be the one to fetch me, Daine."

Daine's irritation melted away when she realized just how ill at ease her mage was. "The pages arranged it, Numair, but you're right about the pony. She'd've left marks and drawn blood," she agreed. "I'm not in much mood to do either, though, so can we have a word in the gardens?"

The garden path was empty thanks to a sudden chill in the air. The cold meant nothing to a mountain-raised girl holding hands with one of the most powerful mages in the world. Numair set magic swirling around them that warmed the air and kept out all sounds but the music and the night animals.

"I don't know what to say, Daine."

"I don't, neither." Daine almost winced at the country phrase that Numair might not even understand. Her feeling gained more weight when he didn't reply, and grew steadily stronger and stronger as the quiet between them grew.

"It comes down to you," Daine blurted out when the silence became too much to bear. "I want to stay, but I want to stay for you. I don't want to spend months trying to forget how I feel about you because you think that I'm too immature." She was nearly sure that she loved him. She'd never been in love before, and she had blushed scarlet at the romance scroll Alanna had loaned her for its explicit detail about canoodling, but she did want Numair around for good, for canoodling and otherwise.

"I don't want you to see an old man, someday," Numair whispered. "I'm fourteen years older, Daine, and you're beautiful."

"Maybe, but I scare most men straight away. You'll notice that Nealan was the only one to dance with me." There hadn't been time to dance with anyone else, truthfully, but no one else had been interested. "Well, and Prince Roald, but I lost him near straightaway to a title-chaser."

"In time, someone would see what I do."

"Then they'd be too late. Numair, I'm serious about this, and serious about you." Daine couldn't hold back the words. The thought of losing him had cemented the idea in her mind. "I love you, you daft mage, and that's not the kind of thing that someone as stubborn as me can go forgetting."

"You…"

Daine took heart that Numair looked stunned instead of unhappy. "Me."

Daine bit her lip as the silence stretched on again, just as it had when she admitted that she couldn't decide if she should stay or go. "It wouldn't be the same to only be able to watch. Making me a new goddess is a big thing, since it doesn't happen often, and I'd not leave my da's lands for a hundred years. You'd be gone." It was the first time that she had been able to say the words out loud. "So maybe I was lying, earlier, but I know what I need to do. I'm staying. I couldn't find enough to do with my time spending decades as a third wheel on a two-wheeled cart. My ma and da spent long enough not being together. I saw how miserable it could be, sometimes."

"I'm not the kind of person worth that much regard, Daine. If you knew what I've done, all the secrets I've kept, you might change your mind." Despite his words, Numair was staring at her with new eyes. Hopeful eyes.

"Then we'll try for a year," Daine said decisively. "The offer for me is still open, after all, and not something to rush. If you get tired of me…" Her noble manners honed by weeks as part of King Jonathan's court entirely failed her. She could talk properly when she was a goddess, but she wasn't coming to Numair as a goddess. She wanted him to think of Sarra's bastard daughter with regard and, in time, with love. "I'd let you walk off, Numair, honest I would. I'd not stand for makin' you stay."

Very slowly, Numair reached to take her hands in his, looking all the while as if she would turn away in disgust. "I'm many things, Daine, but I like to think that I'm not a fool. I could never grow tired of someone like you."

Daine felt like she was flying between his hands around hers and the look in his dark eyes. Like some kind of premonition, she could see them together. She could see children with his absent-minded brilliance and with the stubbornness that would come from both sides. She could see herself coaxing Numair out of his lonely tower to come live with her at Berrywood, and she could see all the times that she'd go fetch him out of books to come eat a meal after half a day had passed.

"We'll agree, then." She was still shocked that he'd agree, and not quite ready for something so drastic as kissing. She was quite sure that she'd not want to stop for some time, and there was the matter of the ball in her honor. She'd hate to miss dancing with him. Instead, she stepped close enough to embrace him. With his arms around her, she was quite sure that there was nothing that could think to hurt her. "I'm fair glad that you came to Snowsdale, Numair Salmalín."

"As am I, Veralidaine Sarrasri." There was no odd inflection on the name, no reservations for Sarra's daughter.

Daine wouldn't be a goddess. She'd be something better: happy, and sure of her decision. As they walked back to the ball, with his arm solidly around her shoulders, she felt as though she would never stop smiling. She'd left Snowsdale after all, and for an entire host of people that respected her. Even better, they liked her, and that was still a novelty just as much as teasing a queen and talking with a king as an equal. Daine had found a home that she had never expected, and better yet, she had found someone to share it with.


End file.
